


Wind and Tide

by greenforsnow



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Canon Era, Dubious Science, M/M, Memory Alteration, Rating for later chapters, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-02-18 12:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenforsnow/pseuds/greenforsnow
Summary: There are many barriers and complications that prevent Jim and Spock from acknowledging their feelings for each other. This is the story of what happens when a diplomatic mission goes wrong and ends up removing all of those barriers and complications along with their memories of The Enterprise, Starfleet, and each other. Loosely based on the Voyager episode “Workforce”





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My first reaction to watching the Voyager episode “Workforce” was confusion that B'Elanna and Tom were getting a “we always find each other even when our memories are erased” story line. My second thought was that no one deserves a “we always find each other even when our memories are erased” story line more than Jim and Spock. This story is the result of that. This is the first Star Trek story I’ve ever written and the first chaptered fic I have written in almost ten years. Yikes, here goes.

Jim Kirk knew he was in love with Spock. It was just a fact that he carried with him constantly. At first, he had tried to brush it off as just physical attraction. He had been drawn to Spock’s long angular form, his composed face, his dark eyes, from the moment that Captain Pike had introduced them. Jim was used to physical attraction. He was used to crushes. They came and went and so he was determined to wait out this crush on Spock. His love crept in slowly— it intertwined itself with their growing friendship— tangled up with the admiration and respect was a love and a desire so strong that when Jim took a moment to look at it— it hit him hard like a punch. This always happened in quiet moments— the two of them playing chess in his quarters, a moment of eye contact during a slow day on the bridge, sitting beside one-another in the sick-bay. Just as surely as Jim knew he was in love with Spock, he knew he could never do anything about it. He had already asked so much from Spock and Spock had given it to him openly and he knew how lucky he was. He was happy with the gift of Spock’s friendship and it would be selfish of him to ask for more. Besides that, it was messy and there were regulations and Jim did not want to risk the strong partnership and command team they had made. 

So Jim tried to be content; he threw himself into their mission and took the joy from that. The Enterprise had a slow few months when their landing party found themselves in a fight with a band of marauding aliens who had attempted to steal their shuttlecraft. Jim saw a chance to tackle their leader and he could tell from the looks on the other aliens’ faces that they would surrender the moment their leader was not pushing them forward. He had been successful with the tackle, but he had been shot and hit his head in the process. He woke up in the sick bay with a headache and a slow dull throb in his hip. His vision was still blurred but he could see the distinct shape of his first officer next to him. Jim smiled despite himself. Spock was sitting on the chair next to the bed his head bowed and his fingers steepled. The dirt clinging to the blue of his uniform top let Jim know that he had not returned to his quarters since they beamed aboard. He did not remember what happened once they reached the ship, but he still remembered the solid heat of his first officer’s chest as he clung to it. Jim rubbed his eyes. “Grieving me already?” He said— his voice rough from lack of use and the smoke he had inhaled during the attack.

Spock sat up straight and raised his head to regard Jim. “Merely meditating to find way to stop you from throwing yourself into the midst of every conflict you encounter,” he replied in an even tone, but Jim could hear the relief and fondness in his voice.

Jim chuckled and closed his eyes. “Unless my memory was impacted by my injuries, I seem to recall you also did a fair amount of throwing yourself into the line of fire.” 

Spock raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, “I only put myself in danger when it is logical— to protect my captain and my crew. If you were more cautious with your own safety, perhaps I would be able to do the same.”

“Fair shot, Mr. Spock,” he said with a smile. Despite the effectiveness of Bones’ hyposprays and dermal regenerators, he felt like he never truly felt healed until moments like these— this natural banter with Spock. He turned to face his first officer and his vision was cleared enough to see the spark of relief in his eyes— his grin widened, which reopened a cut on his lip. He wiped his thumb along his lip, which only served to smear the blood across his lips. 

Spock quickly leaned forward with a scrap of gauze and began to clean the blood. Jim’s stomach tightened at the intimacy of the gesture, even though the other man was careful not to let his fingers touch Jim’s skin he could feel the heat and energy radiating from them. Spock was close to him now— close enough that his scent filled Jim’s nose— vulcan spice tea and starfleet soap and a musky smell that was so Spock. Jim could see each minuscule flutter of his eyelids as he tended to the cut. His mouth felt dry suddenly and he felt a flush creeping up his neck from his chest. Jim closed his eyes again— this was too much. Spock was too near and he still felt jittery from whatever Bones had injected him with. He felt an almost irrepressible desire in his arms to pull Spock closer and he didn’t trust himself not to do something that crossed a line. 

“I believe Doctor McCoy neglected this due to the more serious nature of your other injuries. I could fix it now, if you’d like,” Spock said. His fingers were still resting against Jim’s lips.

Jim swallowed, “First officer, science officer, field medic— is there no end to your expertise?” Jim said. He had meant his tone to be light, but it came out clear and heavy with all the admiration that Jim felt. As he spoke he felt his lips move against Spock’s fingers— the gauze still blocking any direct contact. He dared a look at Spock’s face whose eyes were locked on the blood seeping through the cloth in his hand— his brow slightly furrowed. He didn’t respond and Jim tore his gaze from Spock’s face long enough to look him over. He immediately noticed burn marks on Spock’s uniform sleeve. The fabric was charred and there was dark green residue sticking to the fibers. “Spock,” Jim said, “Did you let Bones look at that arm?”

“It wasn’t worth bothering the doctor while you were still in critical condition,” Spock said dropping his hand from Jim’s face, but not moving away. 

“I’m fit as an Andorian ice-cream cone now. Let me see,” he said trying hard not to grimace as he sat up. He reached out and held Spock’s bicep gently in one hand while the other carefully peeled back the burned fabric. His chest tightened at the sight. There was a dark burn across the inside of Spock’s arm. “Spock,” Jim said his voice still soft, but scolding. 

“The vulcan blood makes the injury appear worse than it is. You are not as accustomed to seeing Vulcan injuries. I’ve been told by certain humans that the color and coagulation rate make injuries appear— dramatic,” Spock said, but he flinched as Jim pulled back the fabric around the wound. 

Jim had an idea who had said that. He could hear a classic Bones rant about the dramatic nature of Vulcans. “Don’t bullshit me. I have seen enough Vulcan injuries with you as first officer to last me a lifetime. I think I know what it looks like by now.” Jim dragged a finger along the unbroken skin at the side of the injury— rubbing gently at the thick dried blood. Spock’s skin felt hot beheath his finger and his whole hands heated and tingled with the contact.

Spock inhaled.

“Does that hurt?” Jim said jerking his hand back.

“No,” Spock said.

Jim slowly returned his fingers to Spock’s arm. He reminded himself that this was not an intimate moment. He was merely concerned for his officer’s health, but he could not ignore the heat in his belly and the increased beeping from his biobed as his pulse increased. 

The whoosh of the sick bay door started them both. Spock immediately straightened and sat back in his chair, pulling his arm with him. Jim clasped his own hands together in his lap and turned to see Bones walking quickly in,

“I see you ignored my order to comm me as soon as he wakes up, Spock. Nothing unusual there, I suppose. How’re ya feeling, Jim?” He walked over pulled the monitor next to Jim’s bed to him and began scrolling through the scan history. “You’re damn near healed. I’m going to keep you here for one more day so I can make sure there are no lingering cognitive impacts. Plus, it’s the only way I can make sure you actually rest.” 

“You need to look at Spock’s arm,” Jim said, fully planning on arguing a whole other day stuck in bed after Bones tended to the wound. 

Bones made quick work of healing Spock’s burn. Spock turned to Jim after with a slight smirk and raised eyebrows afterwards.  
Jim laughed. “It could have been bad if you had continued to insist you didn’t need any medical attention,” Jim retorted. 

Bones looked between the two of them. “Alright Spock, get outta here. I need Jim to rest and I’m sure someone needs to start running this ship.”

Spock nodded and caught Jim’s eye for a moment before turning to leave. 

“Spock,” Jim said as Spock reached the door, “You are to seek medical attention when you are injured. No matter what.” Jim grinned at the slight thoughtful frown on Spock’s face. “Consider that an order,” he paused, “This ship needs you whole and healthy. I need you whole and healthy.”

Spock nodded, “As you wish.” He held Jim’s eyes for one more moment before turning and leaving.

 

* * *

 

When Spock catalogued and contained his experiences and emotions from the day there was one that was always the most strong and consistent. He loved Jim Kirk. Spock was even ashamed that it took him as long as it did to work it out. It was not until after the disastrous events of his Pon Farr that he was able to identify the feeling. His mind was in such chaos that his feelings for Jim seemed to be the only ones that were clear. Spock was not sure if Jim returned his feelings. He, in fact, chose not to investigate if that were a possibility. He knew that he would not put this burden on Jim so there was no reason. Whenever Jim was injured these feelings became harder to contain. Spock was anticipating his mediation after Jim’s latest stint in the sickbay, but he knew he needed to finish his paperwork first.

Bones had let Jim return to his quarters on the condition that he did not work until the start of his next shift. He had been discharged from the sick bay one hour and six minutes ago and Spock was sitting at the desk in his quarters finishing his paperwork when his comm signaled. He knew it was Jim before he even looked. 

“Are you already going to have me disobey the Chief Medical Officer’s orders, Captain?” Spock said 

Jim laughed, “Of course not, Mr. Spock. I want your help with a completely non-duty related project.” Jim smiled and there was an excitement and delight in that sparked something in Spock. The same sensation he got before away missions or looking out at uncharted space. 

“I’ll be there shortly,” Spock said. He was aware he was smiling back at Jim. It was something he tried to control but it was getting harder and harder to contain. 

“Oh and Spock,” Jim added as Spock stood up, “You may as well bring that paperwork you’re working on,” Jim winked at him and Spock was grateful he turned off his screen before Jim could see the blush rising on his cheeks. 

He gathered his work and quickly walked next door. Jim let him in as soon as he approached. He was greeted by the sight of chaos as he stepped into the captain’s chambers, not unusual after Jim had been confined to any amount of bedrest. Spock was sure, as usual, that there was a reason and order behind chaos. Parts of Jim’s food synthesizer were spread across various surfaces. He had eight padds set up with various codes lighting up some of the screens while others were opened to images of plants and various mission reports. 

Jim smiled at the frown on Spock’s face and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Since I know I would be alerted if there were some type of explosion in your quarters, I have to conclude that you are in the middle of a project and there is a reason for this mess?” Spock said.

Jim laughed lightly, “Of course. It’s Sulu’s birthday tomorrow.”

“I was not aware it was customary to present an individual with a pile of synthesizer scraps on the anniversary of their birth,” Spock said.

Jim laughed loudly and clapped Spock on the back. His hand lingered there and Spock could feel the heat seeping through his uniform. His body had leaned back into the touch before he could stop himself. Jim kept his hand there and gently steered him further into his quarters. His hand slid slowly down Spock’s back as he positioned him in front of the padd on the center of the desk which had a rough schematic. 

“Not a pile of scraps. Can you figure it out?” 

Spock bent over the padd and he could feel Jim’s eyes on him the whole time he was looking at the design. “Oh,” Spock said, “You are trying to change the programming of the food synthesizer to create other organic matter?” He scrolled down the page, “plants?”

“Plants,” Jim said with a big smile. “Vegetables are plants and the synthesizer manages those just fine so all I need to do is just… expand its repertoire a bit. I think I have the design down, but it could use your finesse. And also your… logical and scientific opinion about the best plants to try.” 

Spock kept looking at the design for a moment— it was a stark reminder of just how brilliant Jim was— the way he made connections and created new and novel ideas out of tools that otherwise seemed ordinary. His mind was extraordinary and paired with his kindness and thoughtfulness— the strength of it brought up a feeling of longing and desire in Spock that he tried to push down. It was not appropriate. 

“May I?” he held his hand out towards the padd. 

“Of course. Please,” Jim said. 

The changes Spock made were minor. The design was already eloquent and dynamic. Jim stayed standing close behind him watching him work. He was quiet except for a few small noises of appreciation. 

“You’re brilliant,” he whispered as Spock finished. His breath was hot against Spock’s neck. “Alright, what should we try first?” Jim asked. He rubbed his hands together and smiled at the various padds he had laying around the room. For a moment, Spock thought he could sense Jim’s enthusiasm radiating off of him even though there was no mental link between them. He picked one up and scrolled down the mission report until he came to a tricorder image. “Species 893tn? Do you remember this one?” He asked, showing the padd to Spock.

“Of course. I also recall that it tried to remove Ensign Pleck’s finger. Would Lieutenant Sulu enjoy a plant capable of severing human bones?” Spocked asked.

Kirk just offered an expectant smile in return.

“You’re correct. That is an excellent first choice for the lieutenant,” Spock agreed, remembering Sulu’s immediate affection for and interest in any dangerous species they came across on a planet’s surface. 

Spock pulled up the genetic data for species 893tn and handed it to Jim. He watched as Jim altered the program and began piecing together the various pieces of his synthesizer. 

They worked in companionable silence for a while, occasionally making comments about particular plants. Before long Jim’s quarters began to resemble the botanical lab.

“What’s your favorite flower?” Jim asked as he sat on the edge of his bed with his legs crossed, absentmindedly running his index finger up and down the orange stock of a Romulan Irfta Lily and looking fondly at Spock.

Spock’s first instinct was to tell Jim that having favorites was not a logical premise or say something about how he appreciated the diversity of different species.However, Jim was looking at him with the kind of open interest and sincerity that made that made him so competent at negotiating first contacts. Spock was smart enough to know that he was not immune that Jim’s specific brand of charm. 

“My mother has a Terran rose garden. She cross-bred them with some Vulcan species so they could handle the climate. I have always been fond of roses, as a result. She preferred to use the old-fashioned method of grafting and she used to allow me to assist her. It was always a peaceful time where I was treated as an equal and was allowed time to think and meditate. I have never experienced what humans refer to as homesickness, but I do sometimes find myself longing for those moments underneath the stars in the garden with the smell of roses,” Spock had said more than he had intended. A common side effect when Jim was looking at him like this. A small smile on his face, his hazel eyes warm and welcoming, looking at Spock as if there was nothing else more important than this moment. 

“I love roses too,” Jim said, “I would like to see this garden of your mother’s at some point,” he added as he entered a new code into his program. He opened the window of the machine and took out yellow rose. He crossed to where Spock was and sat beside him, their legs almost touching. “I know it’s not a garden, but maybe it can help fill the gap in the meantime,” Jim said, “Besides, roses still hold certain connotations. I wouldn’t want Hikaru getting the wrong idea,” Jim said holding the flower out to Spock. 

“And that is?” Spock said. Spock reached over and took care not to touch the thorns or Jim’s fingers. 

“Well, giving roses is considered a romantic gesture on some parts of Earth,”

Spock raised his eyebrows and looked between them. Both of their hands still on the rose. A pink flush rose up Jim’s face. Spock felt his heart rate increase in his side. Surely, Jim did not mean to make that implication. It was a mistake. The blush a sign of embarrassment. But he did not move away; his thigh was pressing hot against Spock’s now. Jim bit his lip still looking at his own hand and let out a sound that could have been a quiet laugh. “And what is this?” Spock asked. 

“I, uh,” Jim began. He furrowed his brow like he was trying to make a decision. His finger slid up so his bare skin was sitting on top of Spock’s. 

Spock could not stop a sharp inhale at the unexpected contact. He felt such a strong pull and longing at Jim’s touch that he almost dropped the flower. Jim looked up and made eye contact with a strange expression on his face and wide eyes. Spock had studied the signs of human arousal. He recognized that Jim’s pupils were dilated, that his breathing was fast, and he was leaning closer to Spock than necessary for this conversation. He thought he had seen the signs before, but had always been able to explain it as something else. Adrenaline, just general admiration, or friendship. But here, Jim was so close and he could not find another explanation or excuse. He was deliberately pressing his fingers against Spock’s— and Spock knew Jim well enough to know he could not have forgotten the significance of such a gesture. In that moment, Spock almost broke. The yearning inside to pull the other man close was almost overpowering. 

“Would you fault me for saying this can be whatever you desire it to be?” Jim asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. 

“Jim,” he said, without breaking eye contact. His voice was rough and Spock knew that if Jim’s lust was this clear to him— then surely the opposite was also true. 

Jim bit his lip and stared at Spock for another intense moment before looking back down. He dropped his hand. “You’re right, of course. We can't—” Jim grabbed his own hand and rubbed his hands together. “I should not have put you in that position. I should probably check with Bones about lingering cognitive issues after all.” He cleared his throat. 

Spock wanted to say something. Jim was clearly distressed and Spock wanted to comfort him. Wanted to feel Jim’s hands on his own again wanted to feel all of him, but the other man had already stood. He was smiling at him, but it was his diplomatic smile. It did not have any of the intensity or warmth Spock had grown accustomed to. 

“I, uh, I know your memory is impeccable Mr. Spock, but if you could do your best to forget this happened I would appreciate it.”

Spock credited himself for his quick thinking and ability to process things faster than most, but his thoughts were clouded as if he were stuck in the previous moment. He still felt Jim’s skin against his own the pleasant psychic thrum vibrating between them. He still saw Jim moving slowly towards him, eyes full of intention. He had not had time to process anything and now Jim was standing an arm’s length away and Spock still did not know how to react.

“Of course, Captain,” he said.

“Why don’t we take a crack at that paperwork you brought with you. I think we have sufficient samples to give Hikaru and nothing like some good old fashioned Starfleet bureaucracy before bed— better than warm milk,” Jim said. 

Spock nodded and transferred the documents to Jim’s padd. His usual retort caught in the back of his throat and his mouth tasted bitter. He sat down across from Jim at his desk where a large orange moss-like organism blocked most of his view of the other man. They worked in silence— the pair of them had developed a comfortable routine that did not require much communication. For that, Spock was thankful. When they finished Spock stood quickly. He was eager to meditate and calm his mind after the events of the evening. 

 

***

 

“Entering the orbit of Terronda Prime Sir” Chekhov announced as that planet entered the view screen. A yeoman behind Jim gasped. It was a beautiful sight, Jim thought. The surface was mostly covered with a deep blue ocean. The only land was a set of five claw-like peninsulas that stretched around the center of the planet in a band. 

“The native population of the planet are the Plahktoran. Historically, they have been a closed off society, but within the last ten years or so they have started to allow small groups of outsiders in, mostly to work in their High-density Psimite labs. This may have opened the door to begin negotiations for them to join the federation,” Jim said. 

“Hailing channels are open, Sir,” Nyota said, turning in her chair towards the viewscreen, “I've updated our translators to include more of the Plahktorian language.”

“Excellent,” Jim said, “hail them now, Lieutenant.”

A slender turquoise alien with large yellow eyes and white spines down his arms appeared on screen. He blinked and placed both hands on his shoulders and then extended them out towards the viewscreen. Jim mimicked the gesture. There had been limited data available about the Plahktorans, but the report had speculated that this was a gesture of greeting. 

“I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. Requesting permission to dock.”

“Tolden Klav of the exoplanetary commission. Permission granted, Captain. We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival. I will wait for you at the docking bay,” the alien responded. Making the shoulder gesture again before ending the transmission. 

“Commander Spock and myself will lead a small landing party to the surface. Lieutenant Uhura, we will be in contact in the event of any major language or communication misunderstandings. In the meantime, there’s a new colony on Lenus III that requires our assistance getting set up. Mr. Scott you have the conn.” Jim nodded and eagerly got out of his chair. 

He clasped Scotty on the shoulder as he passed him, “Treat her right.”

“Aye Captain,” he responded, “always do.” 

Jim smiled and continued into the turbo lift. “Transporter room. That seemed like a warm welcome. These negotiations could be easier than Command is expecting.”

“I have found Captain, that many times when you say something will be easy, the opposite ends up being true,” Spock said with a raised eyebrow.

Jim laughed, “Why Mr. Spock, I wouldn't think you were one for superstitions. This will be a walk in the park. Trust me.”

“Always, Captain,” Spock said with a look in his eye that made Jim’s heart jump.

The lift stopped and Jim nodded to the rest of the landing party assembled in the transporter room. “Let’s go,” he said, clapping his hands together already excited for the mission ahead and giving Spock one last smile before stepping on to the transporter pad.


	2. Landing Party

Jim settled into the seat of the transport next to Spock. The drone of the vehicle was loud enough that he couldn’t hear the other conversations going on surrounding them. He was happy to have a chance to just observe his surroundings without the pressure of diplomatic relations as they made their way to the capitol. The transport itself was made of a clear glass-like material so they had a wide view of the planet as they began the trip. The ocean looked more green close up and the shallower sections were shimmering with something silver below the surface. They were climbing up a steep rock ridge and there was a bright red plant that was coming out of the water and covering each the grey surface and it dried out further from the water it turned pink. Their vehicle was carried by a stream of water and Jim was curious how it was being powered. He turned to ask Spock, but he was thoroughly engrossed in looking through the window. His tricorder was out, but he wasn’t using it. Jim smiled to himself. He loved watching Spock like this— his face with lit with curiosity — Jim could almost sense theories racing through his mind. Spock turned to face him. Shit— staring too long. Spock raised his eyebrows. 

Jim smiled. “Maybe these talks will end early and you’ll get a chance to actually take some readings. Do some exploring.”

“That would be agreeable,” Spock said. 

Jim grinned, “I wonder what kind of water crafts they have. I want to get you on boat.” 

Spock look past Jim at the water on the other side, “In order to get more accurate readings of the ocean composition?” 

Jim laughed, “Of course, Mr. Spock, why else?” He winked before he could stop himself. “Do vulcans swim?” 

“I know how to swim,” Spock responded.

Jim knew that Spock liked diplomatic missions. He had told him he enjoyed the logical puzzle it presented— that he enjoyed the strategy and watching Jim navigate his way through negotiations. But he also knew that diplomatic talks often lasted a long time and that Spock enjoyed nothing more than exploring something new. He silently promised himself that he would make sure that he and Spock had at least some time to explore— even if he had to make up a reason that it was somehow needed in order to complete negotiations— he would make it happen before the end of the trip. 

The vehicle was still climbing up and Jim wondered if the higher parts of the land were worth more because they did not have to deal with the changing tides or large storms that the ocean would bring. Jim had seen some large dark block like buildings that had appeared to exist mostly underground when they first arrived. Jim had meant to ask about it but they had been quickly escorted to the transports and their guides did not seem willing to let them stop to make observations. As they climbed further up the landscape. the buildings were all made out of some light blue stone. There were large windows and contraptions on the roof that Jim guessed harnessed solar energy. Their vehicle stopped briefly before being shot upwards by a strong burst of water to an open pavillion. There was water flowing around the whole border with deep green grass growing out of it. Their hosts stood and opened the front panel of the transport and escorted them out. 

They were greeted by the full council. Jim stepped towards them, remembering the gesture he placed his hands on his shoulders and extended them towards the group. “I am Captain Kirk, my first officer Commander Spock, and ensigns Ahmed and Jacobs. We thank you for graciously opening your world to us and we look forward to learning more about your people and how the Federation can assist you,” Jim said. 

The council all acknowledged Jim, but it was only Tolden Klav, the man who had answered their hail, who responded. “We thank you for taking the time to meet with us. We look forward to speaking with you, but first we have a banquet being set up to celebrate your arrival and what we hope will be a profitable alliance.” 

His eyes lit up at that in a way that made Jim uneasy. Perhaps it was the eagerness after being so resistant to the idea of outsiders for so long. Or perhaps it was the way Klav kept tapping two long fingers against a glowing device on his belt or the way he kept looking at another one of the council members and gesturing. Jim made a note to ask Nyota about the small hand motions when he was able to contact the Enterprise. He tried not to let his unease affect the way he proceeded— it was not that he didn’t trust his own instincts — it was just that he made a point not to judge alien cultures by human standards. There was enough variation within cultures on earth regarding things like facial expressions or gestures. He would not presume to make assumptions based on things like that. Still, it was good to be cautious.

They were now being led down a long corridor with white floors. There were water streams running down either side of the stone path. Jim turned to Spock slightly behind him who had a small frown on his face— Jim could tell something was bothering him. It was different from his considerate frown— slightly deeper with concern in his eyes. Jim always felt oddly comforted when Spock felt similarly uneasy. At least they were on the same page. The banquet room was large and open. There was a cool breeze cutting through the room that smelled like something Jim could not identify. There were four long stone tables stretching the length of the room with people already seated along most of them. Their party was lead to the center table where dark cushions lined the chairs. Jim waited for their hosts to take their seats before sitting between Spock and Tolden Klav. He was sitting across the table from the other Plahktorans that Tolden Klav kept gesturing to who introduced himself as Turink, the translator could not make out his next words, but after some confusion he informed them that he was a medical professional of some kind. 

The first dish was a plate of charred, orange, tubular plants with a spicy sauce drizzled over them. Spock held his tricorder discreetly under the table and was able to nod to Jim to indicate that it was safe for consumption. Jim enjoyed the burn of the sauce in his mouth made sure to compliment their hosts. 

“We understand that Vulcans have many unique abilities,” Turink said with a motion of his hand towards Spock. 

“Yes, we’re quite lucky to have Mr. Spock as a part of our crew,” Jim said with a smile at Spock. 

“Your telepathic abilities are quite advanced?” Turink asked. 

“Indeed.” Spock shifted and Jim sensed he felt uncomfortable. 

The way that Turink was eying Spock was putting Jim on edge.

“How do these abilities work?” Tolden Klav added quickly. 

“I’m not sure I understand your question,” Spock said. 

Before the aliens could respond Jim intervened. “Vulcans, as a species, present many mysteries that I’ve been trying to solve for years now. Sometimes the most fun part is the wondering,” Jim said with what he hoped was a good natured laugh and a clap on Spock’s shoulder. “Now, speaking of fascinating things, I was quite intrigued by the way your transport vehicles work.” 

The two aliens shared a look that Jim couldn't ignore. Tolden Klav tapped his first two fingers against the table three times while his other fingers brushed sideways. Jim quickly looked at Spock to confirm that he noticed the strange behavior as well. Spock gave the slightest nod. The tension was only momentary as the Plahktorans launched into an explanation about they way they were able to control the water flow through a type of electric currents that originated from static springs under the planet’s surface. 

As dinner finished and Jim could feel exhaustion grating on his patience. The hours of being on edge and tuned into the others surrounding him had left him more worn out than usual. He was relieved when they were led back to their rooms. He lingered by his door with Spock, trying not to stare at the way the humidity in the air had made the usually straight hairs by Spock’s ears curl slightly. 

* * *

This mission was meant to be straightforward. The Captain and himself were sent as gestures of goodwill. It had been logical to send a small landing party, but as negotiations concluded for the day, Spock found himself wishing that they had brought along more officers. Particularly Lieutenant Uhura, who would have been able to provide more insight about their hosts. Spock had felt a pressure in his head since they had beamed down that usually indicated another kind of telepathic presence, yet the Plahktorans had not indicated that they had any sort of telepathic abilities. 

The dinner had only made Spock’s suspicions increase. It had felt more like an interrogation than any kind of friendly conversational exchange. Tolden Klav had questioned Jim extensively about his abilities and education, while Turink had done the same to Spock. He was eager to resign for the evening. He had a catalogue of suspicious behaviors and inconsistencies that he wanted to discuss with Jim and meditate upon before the next days talks. They were walked back to their rooms by four Plahktorans. An excessive amount of people to merely make sure they did not get lost, Spock noted. 

“Mr. Spock, a word before bed if you can?” Jim looked sharply at the guard who had shown them back to their rooms. He sighed as the guard stepped back from the door and Spock entered his room. 

“There is something strange going on here,” he said as the door shut. “I don’t think they are being straightforward about anything that is happening. And especially what they want from us.”

Spock was grateful once again for what Jim referred to as his intuition. Spock knew that this intuition was Jim’s ability to unconsciously pick up on numerous subtle details and make rapid connections. “I agree,” Spock said, having a seat at the desk, “I do not think they are being transparent. I believe they have at least some telepathic abilities, yet they have denied it. I have observed some reaction to my own abilities.”

“Lieutenant Uhura’s report about their language also indicated that there were certain gaps in vocabulary and some common sentence structures that usually indicate an addition of non-verbal communication,” Jim added, “I understand cultures being secretive, but this is more than that. They are much more technologically advanced than the initial reports indicated.”

“Yet, they still claim their primary motivation to joining the Federation is access to our technology,” Spock interjected.

“And then there is the issue of the word the translator could not make sense of,” Jim added. “They want our work or our skills? It could just be a glitch with the translator, but something about the way they said it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up,” he concluded.

Spock raised an eyebrow, “A strange danger-detection tool, but one that I have come to trust nonetheless,” he said.

“Thank you, Spock,” Jim said. He smiled and Spock could not control the warmth he knew Jim could see in his own eyes. He reached out to touch Spock’s arm. Spock inhaled at the touch and noted his usual instinct to lean deeper into the touch. 

“We need to be cautious,” Jim said softly.

Spock raised his eyebrows, unsure for a moment if Jim was talking about the Plahktorans or their own interactions. 

“With the negotiations,” Jim added letting his hand drop from Spock’s arm, “Make sure we don’t agree to anything yet. I want to have clarity about what their intentions are before we make any moves.”

“I agree,” Spock said. 

“Great,” he said, “be careful. Make sure your door is locked.” 

“Goodnight Jim,” Spock said. He hesitated for a moment by the door before turning to leave. 

* * *

Spock awoke with a start and immediately knew something was wrong. There was someone in his room. He sat up straight and grabbed his phaser from the table by the bed, but before he could do anything else there was a hiss and gas filled the room. Spock immediately fell to the floor and crawled with his robe over his mouth towards the door, but it was no use.

When he awoke again, he first became aware of cold metal against his bare back. There was a bright light above him, which made it hard to observe his surroundings. He was strapped to table with thick rubbery bands. He pulled against them, but they did not break. He turned his head to look at the prone figure on his left. Jim. His thoughts felt scattered from the gas, but the sight of his captain strapped to the table next to him filled him with immediate cold fear. He tugged at the straps again and this time they snapped. The material slapped back hard against him, leaving green welts.

“Jim,” he called, Jim’s eyelashes fluttered but just as he reached out to undo the human’s bonds he was tackled by six Plahktorans in white robes. They forced him back to the table and bound him with new straps, this time with the addition of a metal rope. He felt a cold gel being applied to his face and chest. He thrashed, but the fastenings were too strong. He was only able to reach out beside him and grab on to Jim’s wrist. 

He wasn’t in any condition to shield and so was immediately was hit with Jim’s terror and anger.

“Spock,” Jim croaked, “What are they doing to us?”

Spock shook his head, “I do not know.”

“There’s gotta be a way out of here,” Jim said turning his head. “Spock, it is not going to end like this.”

Even as Jim searched for a solution, Spock felt his desperation growing. He reached within himself and tried to pour any serenity or calm energy he could find into the connection between them. 

Jim responded by twisting his wrist so he could clasp Spock’s hand and Spock could tell this was his version of the same thing. Trying to give Spock comfort and strength. Jim intertwined their fingers. Spock shuddered slightly at the intimacy, but he barely had time to marvel at the intensity of the connection between them before he felt different jolt of electricity. He felt something strange and foreign in his mind and then there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thanks to everyone for the kudos and comments.


	3. The Handler

Jim woke up with a strong sensation that something was wrong. He blindly reached out to the table beside his bed to look for— then he paused. He wasn’t sure what he would be reaching for. He slowly sat up and regarded his surroundings. There was a transparent force-field of some kind surrounding his bed that retracted as he sat up. He was in a simple room with pale grey walls, not really furnished beyond the bed and table and a few shelves. Oh right, he thought. He relaxed slightly although there was still an edge of unease that he couldn’t shake. He was on Terronda Prime. He had come here to work in the mining operation here. Right. Jim nodded to himself and went to the food synthesizer in the other room to get a cup of coffee. He wished he had a window. There was a holographic projection on the largest wall of a sunrise over the ocean, but it wasn’t doing the trick. He noted the digital display over the bed that read “James Kirk, Human, Nutrients and Vitamins”. He checked the schedule on his table. He wasn’t due at his orientation for over an hour, which gave him time to explore and take in some fresh air before his assignment. He opened the closet to find several green jumpsuits. He pulled one on and grabbed his coat and coffee before heading out the door. 

The ocean air felt good and cool against his skin. The steam from his coffee in contrast against his face. The walkway was wet from the early tide and Jim felt himself drawn closer to the shoreline. There was a narrow path that look like it had been cut into the rocks. The plants clinging to the rocks were still red and wet. Jim ran a finger along the rock— the plant was porous and soft it let out ocean water at his touch. The wind was rough down by the water, but Jim appreciated its strength. He stood facing the water and finished his coffee counting the number of red ships he could see disappearing on the horizon. It was deserted down here, a shade different from the bustling street above. Jim always appreciated these moments of solitude. Although, out of the corner of his eye he saw another figure. Someone standing straight staring out at the ocean like he was. They were wearing a long dark robe. Jim felt drawn to the other figure, but stopped himself— they probably were seeking seclusion just like him. It was better not to disturb them. Instead he finished his coffee and started walking back to his apartment to make sure he was ready for his first shift.

As he was walking into the main factory building, he noticed a soft melody coming from down another street. Jim double checked his map and noted that he could walk that way to go to the factory and quickly diverted his path. There was a slender young Plahktoran sitting in the alley with an instrument that Jim had never seen before. The body looked like it was made out of some kind of fish skeleton, although Jim did not recognize it. There were tight brown strings in between several of the natural cavities of the bone. The long Plahktoran fingers allowed the player to pluck several strings at the same time. The result was a soothing tune. Jim couldn’t help but stand and watch.The man’s eyes were closed as he himself seemed to be lost in the tune. As the song ended he opened his eyes and looked at Jim.

“That was beautiful,” Jim said, “What is this instrument called?”

The Plahktoran nodded in thanks. “It’s a leeahk. An ancient instrument. There aren’t many left who know how to play it, so I like to honor the workers with its sound on the way to the mines,” he said. He was carefully placing the instrument back in a wooden case.

“A noble cause,” he paused to watch the way the Plahktoran wrapped a silken green cloth around each portion of the instrument— his care and affection for the object evident in the way he smoothed the fabric against each curve of the bone. “I’m Jim,” he said and extended his arms in greeting.

The Plahktoran mimiced the gesture, “I’m Rekiano. Are you new here?”

“It’s my first day. Is it that obvious?” Rekiano had started to walk towards the mining facilities and Jim quickly fell in step beside him.

“No, I just thought I would have recognized you otherwise. I don’t think I’ve seen someone of your species before. Do you know your position yet?”

“I’m getting assigned this morning. Any tips?” Jim asked

Rekiano looked Jim over, “Flatter the Handler. He is easily offended and has some sort of complex because his brother is the Executive. He probably only got the job because of his family— and you can tell he’s worried people are saying that. He goes crazy with the little power he does have. Piss him off and you’ll end up in the grunt-force for sure.”

“The grunt force?” Jim asked. They were starting to descend down a large hill that led to the entrance of the mining facility. Jim guessed most of the building was underground.

“Ah yes, a valued member of the acquisition squad is what they call it,” Rekiano said with a roll of his eyes. 

Jim recalled the name from the glossy pamphlet on his desk. Acquisition Squad had been written over top of a photo of a smiling Plahktoran holding a multi-purpose lasertool. “Getting posted there would be a bad thing, I take it.”

Rekiano shrugged and plucked a blade of the grass growing by the side of the road. “Work is work, I guess. But it’s tedious. Plus, they put you in these underwater ships and you’re on them for days at a time depending on how far out you go. And I can’t be on one of those for more than a few minutes before I cast up my cavkas, if you know what I mean.”

Jim didn’t, but by the exaggerated look of disgust on the Plahktoran’s face and the way he clutched his stomach gave him a pretty good idea. He let out a chuckle. “I think I get the picture. So if you aren’t in Acquisition, which station do you work at?”

“I work in Export now. It’s a job, I suppose,” he took the blade of grass he had picked to tie his long hair into a messy knot at the base of his neck, “There aren’t many of those left where I came from.” 

“Where do you come from?” Jim asked, eager to learn more about this world that he was going to be calling home.

“The Fourth Peninsula, been here about three years now.” Jim made a note to look at a map when he got back to his room and do some more research. 

“So, what brings you all the way out here. Seems like it was a long journey for a job,” Rekiano asked.

“I wanted to see the universe I suppose. It seemed like good work was being done here and I wanted to be a part of it,” Jim said. He frowned after the words were out of his mouth. There was something about them that sounded stale and wrong in his mouth, but before he could investigate why that was they reached the gate. Rekiano entered his work code into a glass panel and gestured for Jim to do the same. Jim had memorized his code before leaving out, but looked at his papers just to be sure. 

“You’re gonna wanna take the lift up to level ten. You can’t miss the Handler’s office. Overcompensating,” he finished with a whisper.

Jim chuckled and thanked him for his help before getting into the lift. It was powered by a jet of water and they shot quickly up to the top level. Rekiano was right. There were large white pillars framing the door where HANDLER was written with some kind of teal gemstone. There was also a large statue of a Plahktoran that Jim assumed was the Handler. He had a seat on a stool across the hall where a sign indicated new recruits should wait to be called. There were two other nervous looking Plahktorans sitting close together and speaking to each other in soft rapid voices. There was another alien that Jim could not identify, but they had long fingers and gold spines that resembled the Plahktorans. Jim nodded to them as he took his seat. The Handler emerged from his office, opening the double doors and pausing like he was expecting applause. He was a tall man with a mouth that was twisted into a frown and sharp bright blue eyes. His spines were dull and pale at the end— something that Jim was starting to guess indicted age. He was wearing a deep red tunic with gaudy silver buttons over leggings with fish-scale accents. Jim smiled at him and gestured in greeting as he entered the office. 

“James Tiberius Kirk?” he asked in a gruff voice. 

“Yes Sir,” Jim said, not sure if the honorific translated and it was impossible to tell based on the sour look the Handler’s face. He just gestured to the stool in front of a wide wooden table. Jim sat down and crossed his legs. The Handler picked up a sheet of glass from the table and as he began tapping on it--it lit up. Jim saw a photo of himself in the corner. He craned his neck to try to read the data that was next to the picture, but the Handler narrowed his eyes and moved the glass away from Jim’s gaze. 

“There’s no need for you to see my notes, Mr. Kirk,” he said with another cold look.

“Of course,” Jim said. Unsure as to how to go about flattering the man. “Do you have any questions for me?” Jim asked.

“That is not how this works,” the Handler said sharply. 

Jim didn’t know how he was meant to be placed, but quickly decided not to say anything else until the Handler spoke to him. 

The Handler’s expression subtly changed as he tapped through the data. His eyes widened and his narrow lips looked like they were trying to contort into a smile. 

“Very well,” he said, “You will be a suitable fit for the engineering division,” he said with one last decisive tap against the glass that removed the images. “I will have you start there.”

“Start?” Jim asked.

The Handler’s face fell back into a scowl. “Yes, there is a natural progression with our workers they often move from division to division.”

He walked Jim briskly to the door and handed him a new badge and work schedule as well as a map of the building and a deep blue uniform. 

Jim noted that he didn’t start work until the next morning and felt grateful to have another day to familiarize himself with the city and the culture. Since his arrival he had felt off— like he had forgotten something important he was meant to do or he was missing something vital. He just had not been able to put his finger on what it was. He hoped that learning more about where he was and what he could accomplish here might put him at ease. There was a library not far from his living quarters and he hoped that he would be able to find more information there than what was provided in the colorful pamphlets left in his room. Jim headed there, feeling slightly better having a plan for for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read!


	4. New First Contact

Spock was assigned to the Marine Development division and spent the rest of his day exploring the city. He walked down by the shoreline and up and down the narrow streets mentally making notes about the architecture, technology, and behavior he observed. He went into several shops and one museum that was dedicated to the first research team to discover the underwater high-density Psimite deposits. Spock noted that the way the museum presented the story of the discovery and the subsequent development of the mining operation was similar to many classic heroes’ journeys. They used multiple rhetorical devices meant to play on the viewers emotions and create a sense of planetary pride. He left the museum with the intention to find a more objective history once he returned to his room and could access a more extensive database. As evening approached, Spock headed back towards his living quarters. He noticed a small bar and restaurant on the corner next to his building. He was not sure what drew him to it, but he entered before he could interrogate the urge.

The bar was empty besides a few patrons— an older pair of Plahktorans who were sharing a plate of small friend dough pouches with no noticeable expression on their faces— and a human sitting in front of the large window. He was holding glass with an amber liquid in his hand and was leaning back in his chair, his legs crossed. There was something about the man that sparked Spock’s interest and Spock found himself walking towards him. It was not logical for him to walk up to a stranger and initiate conversation in these circumstances, but he continued despite that. He stood looking out the window and the man turned to him. He narrowed his eyes in observation and then smiled a little. There was something about that smile that felt so familiar to Spock. He identified an intense desire to make the man smile larger— to laugh. Spock frowned slightly.

“Excuse me, do I know you from somewhere?” Spock asked. 

The man grinned at that. An odd reaction to a simple inquiry. “Not the most original line in the galaxy, but you know what, you are just handsome enough to pull something like that off,” the man winked at him. A human gesture, Spock recognized. Although he was not sure how he knew that. He did not have any memory of extensive contact with humans— even when he was residing on Earth. 

“James T. Kirk,” the man said. He began to reach out his hand, but stopped himself and raised his hand in a Ta’al.

Spock raised his eyebrows at the man’s knowledge. “My name is Spock,” he said, “Have you encountered many Vulcans before, Mr. Kirk?”

“You’re my first,” he responded again smiling at Spock in a way that made something in Spock warm, “And you can call me, Jim,”

“Is your name not James?” Spock said, somewhat confused by the change.

Jim laughed at that, Spock stiffened, concerned for a moment that the other man was laughing at him, but a longer look at his face immediately let Spock know that wasn’t the case. He was amused, but not at Spock’s expense. There was only kindness and openness in his eyes. “Yes, but Jim is a kind of shortened version of James,” he said.

“Yet they are the same number of syllables, fascinating,” Spock said.

Jim laughed loudly at that. “That’s true. It is just…. Something my friends call me.”

“And we’re friends?” Spock asked.

“One can certainly hope,” Jim said, “we could start with you having a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair next to him. 

Spock sat down immediately, startling himself by natural it felt to honor the other man’s request. 

Jim shifted in his chair so he was facing Spock. 

“Can I buy you a drink? Dinner?” Jim seemed to be amused by his own question. He looked over his shoulder and a server appeared immediately as if he had summoned them from a transporter beam. “I'll have another one of these,” he said gesturing to his empty tumbler glass. “And my friend,” he said with a smile at Spock, “will have…?”

“A tea,” Spock filled in. 

“Thank you,” Jim said and the server bustled away. “You know, you do seem familiar to me too. There's something about….” Jim trailed off. His eyes lingered on Spock in a way that made his blood move towards his face. 

“Yet, I know for sure I would remember if we had met before,” Jim said. 

Spock immediately felt the same despite knowing it was not a logical thought. “I believe I would say the same about you.” Spock said. 

The server brought the two drinks and Spock gratefully wrapped his fingers around the hot mug. The ocean breeze was always cool here and he had felt constantly chilled since he arrived. He looked at Jim who was staring out the window. The sun set quickly here and the sky had darkened already. 

“Do they have constellations on Vulcan?” Jim asked. 

“We do have names for star groupings, but I don’t believe they have ancient mythology like they do on Earth,” Spock said. He remembered his mother talking to him about constellations and remembered reading about them during his time on the planet. He had thought it was illogical to personify distant stars at the time. 

“You know, I spent an entire summer memorizing star charts when I was a kid. Yet it only took me a week to memorize all of the constellations. I still look for them even when I’m light years away,” Jim said. 

Spock observed the other man’s profile. He was looking out at the sky and there was still a trace of a smile in his eyes.

“It is logical to try to find patterns in the unfamiliar,” Spock said.

Jim turned to him, “That is a good way to look at it. So what are some of the patterns that Vulcans invented in the unfamiliar?”

“There is an ancient story about a man who tried to fight the stars,” Spock said.

“Now, that sounds like a good story. Is this how Vulcans discovered the thermal properties of stars?” Jim was looking at him with open curiosity and delight and Spock was taken aback by the impact that it had on him. He had a strong desire to provide this man with endless stories, with endless information.

“No, this is not a historical story. This is more akin to your fables. There was a Vulcan named Pylaav who spent his evenings looking at the stars and appreciating their beauty. One day, he noticed that there was a figuration of stars that resembled the script of his rival’s name. This was still early in the reform and he did not have strong control over his emotions. He was furious that the stars would honor his rival that he was forced to look at the reminder every night. He insisted that it was not logical for the stars to display the name of such a man. So every night, he sat before the stars and recited a list of prepared arguments for why they should change their order. He did this for years. He spent days coming up with arguments and nights yelling into the sky,” Spock had been looking at the sky as he spoke, lost in the old story, but turned to Jim then who was looking at him with a kind of wonder. 

“I have a feeling that the moral of this story is somehow not about the merits of hard work and a devotion to logic?” Jim asked.

Spock raised his eyebrows, “Not exactly. Although, maybe it is, just not in the way you may originally suspect. The man’s rival spent his days practicing his craft. He would thank the stars each night for the beauty they provided. In the meantime, Pylaav wasted away.”

“And the moral?” Jim asked.

“That one should appreciate the beauty of the universe as it is, because there is grace in diversity. And it does not fit to try to change things larger than ourselves.”

Jim smiled brightly at him. “I love that. I should look into more Vulcan fables.”

“That is one that resonated with me as a child. I fear it was tiresome for my mother who I insisted tell me the same story every day,” Spock said. He was feeling a bit taken aback that he was sharing so much with a man he had just met. 

Jim laughed, “For me it was First Contact. I made my older brother tell it to me every night growing up. He got so bored telling it to me he started making up facts. It was quite an embarrassment when I proudly told my first year history class that Zefram Cochrane had presented the Vulcans with a trio of bufflehead ducks who were trained to perform aerial line dances.”

Jim was laughing at the memory, which indicated to Spock that Jim did not find his brother’s actions cruel or a deliberate attempt at humiliation. He allowed himself a small smile of amusement, which only made Jim laugh louder. Spock was struck by the thought that he wanted to do anything he could to continue to allow Jim to express that kind of joy. 

They settled into a comfortable silence. Spock sipped his tea and Jim returned to looking out at the stars. After a moment he said, “There is something special about looking out at a sky I don’t have mapped in my mind, you know? Something about it is exciting,” Jim said. His eyes were lit with enthusiasm and Spock found himself agreeing.

“I concur, Jim,” he said.

Jim smiled at the use of his name. “Now, mind you, I am going to try to get access to this galaxy’s star charts as soon as I can, a contradiction maybe, but that isn’t the point.”

“Sometimes when we examine contradictions they aren't contradictions after all,” Spock replied. 

Jim rubbed his finger around the edge of his glass and regarded Spock. “Very astute point.” 

“You are excited by a new starscape because it represents the unknown. Yet you desire to learn it. Both are driven by the same curiosity and desire for knowledge,” Spock said. 

“Very logical,” Jim said. “Now tell me, how is it you understand me so well when we've only just met?”

“It is simple when it is also how I feel,” Spock admitted.

Jim cocked his head and looked at Spock for a long time. Spock could not identify the look in his eyes, but he felt something in his abdomen respond eagerly to it.

“So, tell me, Mr. Spock, what is a Vulcan doing by himself all the way out here?” 

Spock, who had been wondering the same thing himself, was unsure how to answer. He could remember making the decision, but the memory felt strange, almost like a memory he had picked up from someone else in a mind-meld. “I believe I was looking for work,” he said.

“Me too,” Jim smiled at him, but there was a strange look in the other man’s eyes. “It feels peculiar though, somehow, thinking about why I came. I can’t explain the reasoning of my decision. Even to myself—” he trailed off. 

Spock raised his eyebrows. “I have found I am having a similar experience.” Spock considered the likelihood that both he and Jim would both be drawn to this strange small planet so far from their homeworlds. He was not able to calculate the exact odds, considering how little he knew about the human, but he was curious to find out more. 

“Are you enjoying it here so far?” Jim asked.

“Enjoyment is an emotion that is not relevant” Spock said. Jim’s eyes narrowed slightly at that and he tilted his head as if to question the statement. “However,” he added, “I find the ecology of the planet interesting and predict the work could be intellectually stimulating.”

Jim continued to regard him. “I agree with you there,” he said. 

Just then a tone sounded in the bar followed by an announcement that they would be closing in ten minutes. 

“Well, unfortunately Mr. Spock, I believe that’s my cue. I should get going so I have some time do read up on the technology before my first day of work.” Jim stood and left money on the table for their drinks. Spock stood as well a most illogical feeling of disappointment growing inside him. 

Jim offered him another smile. “It’s been an absolute delight. Thank you for your company. I hope we meet again soon?” He moved his hand as if to grip Spock’s shoulders, but quickly put it down before he made contact. 

Spock took his time on his walk back to his apartment. The night air was cool, but he had brought a thick shawl to wrap around his shoulders so the ocean air didn’t cut though. As he walked, he considered his conversation with the human. He was taken aback by how magnetic he had found his presence. He had meant to spend his evening trying to research more about this new planet he was on. However, the minute he saw the other man his plans were forgotten and he was happy to spend the evening nursing a cup of weak tea and staring out at the stars with him. It was not a waste of an evening, he concluded. He did not gain any more insight into the history or culture here, but it was still a valuable night. 

Spock returned to his room and hung up his shawl in the small closet. He washed his face and prepared to meditate. As he walked by the bed, he noticed a strange hum. He slowly approached the cubicle with one hand carefully outstretched. He could feel vibrations and a pressure in his head and on his face. When he touched the surface there was a sharp shock at his psi points. He quickly walked to the other side of the room and concluded that he was not going to sleep in the bed. He set up a meditation space in the opposite corner and settled in. Vulcans did not need to sleep every night and so Spock was content to spend the night in meditation until he could further investigate the strange bed-unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing to read and your comments and kudos. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. First Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who is continuing on this journey with me. Quick note: this chapter includes reference to something we learned about Spock in season two of Discovery. I don’t think it’s a spoiler, but wanted to include a warning since I know some people had strong reactions to that.

Jim woke up thinking about his conversation with the Vulcan at the bar the night before. His dreams had been filled with pointed ears and foreign star scapes. It hadn’t just been that the man was gorgeous and graceful. His eyes were kind and there was a connection between them he sincerely hoped wasn’t just wishful thinking. He had felt somehow simultaneously excited by Spock’s company and extraordinary relaxed and comfortable. Calm down, Jim, you can’t go skipping off to the altar every time you see someone with a pretty face and a quick mind, he thought to himself, though the words in his mind had a distinct southern drawl that he couldn’t place. He knew he had a tendency to fall for people quickly. He shook his head and reminded himself that he had no indication that the vulcan was even interested in him. With that he continued to get ready for the day. He grabbed a coffee and left out of his room early, eager to get started working in earnest.

He spent the morning reviewing the schematics for the extraction and refining machinery. He assisted his coworker perform some basic maintenance and by lunch he felt pretty confident that he would be able to perform most of his duties independently from here on out. The woman training him had appeared frazzled when he arrived and was grateful that he didn’t need much assistance. She waved him away gratefully at the end of the morning shift and told him to go have his lunch. He found his way to the second level cafeteria easily, but was feeling restless from being cooped up in a windowless area all morning. He selected a plate of food that he was pretty sure was some kind of grilled fish and walked to the edge of the seating area, wondering if there was a way he could get outside from here. He walked along the perimeter of the room and was about to give up and sit down at one of the long stone tables when he heard his name being called.

He turned to see Rekiano, the musician from the street, gesturing towards him holding his own plate of food balanced on one arm. Jim navigated his way across the crowded room. 

“You looking for a way out already?” Rekiano asked. 

“That obvious?” Jim asked sheepishly, “I was hoping I could get outside for at least part of the day.”

Rekiano winked at him, “Follow me.” He led him through the room to the other back corner, handed Jim his plate so he could lift a hatch on the floor and led Jim down a narrow staircase, around a corner, and up a long flight of uneven steps that went on long enough that Jim’s thighs started to burn slightly. They ended up on a section of roof covered by a black substance that had grown slightly sticky in the sun’s heat and smelled like pine. It was clear that most of the building was underground. They weren’t too high off the planet’s surface. There were taller buildings that almost blocked the view of the ocean, but Jim could still hear the waves. Rekiano sat down on the stone boarder of the area with his legs dangling off the edge and Jim joined him. They were near an older Plahktoran who was eating a thick slice of dark bread with what looked like a cheese and pickle. Jim greeted him, but Rekiano shook his head.

“Don’t bother with him,” he said quietly, “He’s a twelfer.”

“And that is..?” Jim asked. He looked over at the older man to see if he was bothered by the way that Rekiano was speaking about him as if he was not there, but there was no change in his blank expression. He took a big bite of bread and wiped his hands on his trousers. 

“It’s what they call people who have been here for twelve years or more. They all get kind of— I dunno. They don’t talk much. Don’t do too much of anything really. Except work.”

Jim furrowed his brow. “That seems… strange. Doesn’t anyone ask what’s happened to them?” He was speaking in a soft voice, still concerned that the man next to them was the subject of the conversation.

Rekiano shrugged, “I think it just kind of is part of the culture here. What can we do about it? I have a few theories, but most people just think it’s just the montonty of this kind of work. They all end up in grunt force.. They keep to themselves, but who knows, they are out on ships for a long time, maybe they have wild parties out there.”

Jim made a note to in his mind to keep an eye on this. “Aren’t people worried about ending up like that?”

“Most people don’t think they will. Probably stupid, but I know I’m not gonna stay long enough for that,” Rekiano stabbed a leafy vegetable on his plate vigorously to emphasize his point. 

“What do you plan on doing after you’re done here?” 

“I’m not sure, but I’m just here for the money. There’s no work back home. Members of the Commission rush in once a year and drop all this new tech on us that eliminates the need for half our town’s jobs and helpfully remind us that there is always work for anyone who wants it in the Psimite industry,” Rekiano rolled his eyes. 

Jim chewed on his fish thoughtfully. Usually, societies that evolved that kind of technology soon developed alternate economies that did not leave their citizens desperate and without means. “So who are you supporting back home?” Jim asked. 

“My parents are—“ Rekiano trailed off and gestured with his fingers. Jim did not need to ask any prying questions about what he meant. He could tell by the look in his eyes that there was a painful history there and there was no need to press it, even though he was desperately curious about the connection between Plahktoran language and hand movements. “So it’s just me and my brother. He’s a bit of a crashunk, but, you know, I love him anyway.”

“A crashunk?” Jim asked, his voice wavering as he attempted to mimic the alien word that his translator had not been able to figure out. 

“You know, like, a fish who asks the pole for advice? He’s easily swayed by anyone around him, but he’s not a bad guy. I worry leaving him alone— he’s likely to join a cult before I make it back,” Rekiano shrugged again and leaned back to look up at the sun.

“I’ve been studying medicine,” Rekiano added with a tone like he was making a confession. “You have to pass this crazy test to even be allowed into the school--it’s like they only want people who know how to be doctors already to learn how to be doctors. Seems kinda absurd, but I’ve been studying,”

Jim nodded, “You seem like that’d be a good fit.”

Rekiano grinned at him. “Everyone usually tells me I got my head too far in the clouds or I have too fast a temper.” He checked the small glass disc on his wrist. “Alright, lunch is up. Back to the grind,” he sighed and Jim followed him back down the stairs. 

* * *

Jim felt drawn outside again as the sun started to go down. The tide had come up so that the lower streets were flooded. Jim noted, with interest, how the lamps and other fixtures by the side of the street were, in fact, fixed to platforms that rose with the water and there were several young plaktorans in small boats that they were paddling down the streets. Jim turned away from the city and walked down a narrow path that lead down towards the eastern shore. The rocks curved around to create a cove that was mostly sheltered from the wind that was ripping across the peninsula. The shore was covered in small reddish red stones on this side of the ocean. Jim was close enough to the shallows of the water that he could see the silver reeds that created the sparkle in the water when he looked at it from farther away. 

He picked up one of the smooth stones and rubbed it in his hands. The stone was soft between his fingers and he reached down to pick up another. When he straightened up, he saw another figure walking down the same path. Spock, he realized as he came a bit closer. His stomach flipped in a pleasant way when he recognized the vulcan. Jim smiled broadly and called out.

Spock turned towards him. He was wearing gray robes that draped around his lean figure and a tight black undershirt and pair of trousers. Shit, he really is gorgeous, Jim thought and tried not to stare as he approached. 

“Mr. Spock,” Jim said, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Spock’s eyebrows and lips both quirked up. “Hello Jim.”

“It seems like we’re destined to keep running into each other,” Jim said and motioned to Spock to join him. 

Spock managed to get down the rock face with an impressive amount of grace. 

“What fates impose, that men must needs abide; It boots not to resist both wind and tide,” Spock recited with a tilt of his head, his eyes fixed soldily on Jim in a way that heated Jim’s face.

Jim could not help the awed laughter that came out of him. “Shakespeare,” he paused for a moment trying to recall the correct play, “Henry VI.”

Spock looked just as surprised and impressed that he identified the play as Jim felt by Spock quoting it in the first place. 

“You’re a fan ancient terran literature?” Jim asked, he had a flood of questions he wanted to ask Spock, but did not want to overwhelm the Vulcan. 

“Indeed,” Spock said, “I have found that it is often a good way to supplement my study of Earth history and culture.”

“I agree,” Jim said. He continued to walk along the shore and Spock fell into step next to him.

Jim appreciated how comfortable the silence between them felt. He tried to admire the beauty of the silver water and sky at least as much as he was admiring the beauty of his companion, but Spock’s presence felt magnetic to him. The way his eyes took in his surroundings with curiosity, the sharp lines of his body beneath his robes, the strong angle of his cheekbones, his ears which Jim could just imagine… Jim shook the thought from his head and moved his gaze out to the water before them. As they paused to look out at a ship cutting in across the waves, Jim was struck by the vastness of the water before them. 

“I was seven the first time I saw an ocean,” Jim said. He bent down to remove his socks and shoes so he could put his feet into the water. “I barely knew how to swim, but the second we walked over the dunes and I saw it I just took off running. My poor father wasn’t paying attention and nearly had a heart attack when he looked up and saw me already halfway down the beach charging at full speed.”

“Was he able to catch you?”

Jim chuckled, “Yes. He was lucky, because I got distracted by some shore birds feeding right when I reached the water’s edge,” Jim said. “He always said that my curiosity or my recklessness would be the thing that would kill me, but I suppose it was my curiosity that saved me from my recklessness that day.”

“Enthusiasm is quite different from recklessness,” Spock said in an even tone.

“Well yes, I was enthusiastic, but mostly enthusiastic about diving into that water at top speed,” Jim saw laughter light up Spock’s eyes and his stomach clenched with desire at the sight. 

“I had a similar experience the first time my mother took me to the Voroth Sea,” Spock said.

Jim turned to smile at him. “And you went charging in the second you saw the water?” He asked.

“No,” Spock said with an incredulous look on his face, “I was much more strategic than that. I waited until my mother was distracted discussing the merits of inviting the Romulans to the upcoming Peace conference with the woman next to us and I walked down to the water’s edge using the natural dunes as a cover,” Spock finished.

“Of course,” Jim laughed, “Very logical. Could you swim?”

“I could not swim. It is not a skill that is emphasized early on Vulcan since the majority of us do not dwell near the water,” Spock said.

“How long did it take your mother to notice you were gone?” Jim asked.

“My mother is not an inattentive parent, however, when she feels strongly about one side of a debate it takes a significant distraction for her to disengage with the conversation,” Spock said, “In this case the significant distraction was I-Chaya dropping me at her feet.”

“I-Chaya?” Jim asked. 

“My sehlat,” Spock answered.

Jim let out a bark of laughter. “Those are similar to earth bears, right?”

“That is an accurate comparison,” Spock said.

“Was she upset?”

“She spent the remainder of the trip teaching me how to swim,” Spock said, “And it was the first time she instructed me to withhold information from my father.”

“She was worried he would be upset?” Jim asked

“Vulcans do not get upset. I believe she thought my father would use it as evidence that the whole trip was misguided. He did not want us to go,” Spock said. They turned along a bend in the shore and the wind hit them hard. Spock pulled his robes closer around him and Jim wished for a moment that he had a coat to offer the man. 

“Does he have something against the ocean?” 

“I had to miss classes to go. I had—” Spock paused and looked at Jim. He looked somewhat startled, but he continued, “learning difficulties when I was young. My mother had a theory that taking me out of the traditional Vulcan educational system and applying a more practical approach to teaching would help if she focused on a topic I was interested in. My father did not think this was the correct course of action.” 

Spock carried himself with an air of such competence and grace that Jim had a hard time imagining a younger version of him struggling in school. Although, intellectually he knew that childhood academic performance had very little to do with how someone would turn out later in life. “And you were interested in the Voroth Sea?” Jim prompted.

“Indeed. My mother had read Lin and the Whales of East Banash Bay to me many times and I was fascinated with the idea of marine life,” Spock said. 

“That’s an odd book for a Vulcan to read their child,” Jim observed. It was a 22nd century Earth book, not particularly well known or regarded. 

“My mother is human,” Spock said simply. He turned to look at Jim and suddenly his face turned into a frown. Before Jim could react to this news, Spock turned, walking a few steps away from Jim.

“I apologize,” he said, “I would not ordinarily impose so many details of my life on someone I do not know.”

“Hey,” Jim said and moved so he was facing Spock. He placed a hand on his arm and was immediately struck with the warmth and soft electric hum that he felt underneath his hand. “I apologize for pushing for too much information. For what it’s worth, I would love to know as much about you as you are willing to tell me. But I know that privacy is important to your culture so I would never want you to feel pressured,” Jim said. 

Spock tilted his head and regarded Jim closely. Jim felt himself blush at the intensity in the other man’s gaze. “I find I am… not opposed to sharing more with you,” Spock said.

“Well good, it’s my lucky day then,” Jim said, grinning with relief, “tell me more about I-Chaya. Or tell me how your father ended up marrying a human.”

The setting sun sparked in Spock’s dark eyes as Jim smiled at him expectantly. “Jim, I also would not be opposed to learning more about you,” Spock said.

“Well we are both in luck then. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your quarters while there’s still some light. I’ll try not to bombard you with too many questions,” Jim said and winked at Spock who raised his eyebrows at the gesture and turned away, but not before Jim noticed a slight green tint spreading across his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I love you all! Comments are greatly appreciated.


	6. Competence

Jim quickly developed a regular routine on the Psimite compound. He took his coffee to the shoreline and then walked into the factory in the path that allowed him to stop and listen to Rekiano play and then walk into the building with him. He usually completed his assigned work long before his shift ended, so he started playing around with some schematics seeing if he could increase efficiency and cut down on the environmental impact. The hydropower significantly reduced any waste or gasses the were put out into the environment, but it wasn’t perfect. Jim had noticed an algae bloom on one of his walks that he took a sample of, suspecting that it was due to byproducts of the Psimite production. He ate his lunches alone on the roof or with Rekiano when their breaks lined up. He kept a keen eye out for Spock, but it seemed their shift-breaks didn’t line up or Spock took his lunches at his station. He spent his evenings reading any information he could find about the planets history and culture and walking along the beaches. He wanted to explore more, but there were guards around the compound’s district and when Jim had tried to leave one evening, they had made it clear they had no issues using force to stop him. This made him uncomfortable. When he asked the woman who had trained him on his first day about it, she had insisted it was for their own safety. 

“The ocean is unpredictable unless you are actively tracking the storm systems and tides. It isn’t safe to go wandering about. Plus, all we need is provided by the factory, why would you need to leave?” Her voice sounded practiced and tired. She eyed Jim suspiciously, and turned away with a shake of her head that let him know the question was rhetorical. 

Jim’s second week started with an especially foggy morning. He was walking in for his shift and was surprised when he wasn’t greeted by the sweet melodic sound of Rekiano playing the leeahk. He must have a late shift today, Jim thought as he turned the corner. Rekiano was there— just sitting. His legs were crossed and the instrument sitting on his lap, but he was only staring at it, his long fingers brushing along the edges of the bone. 

“Rekiano,” Jim called to him as he approached, “what’s wrong?”

The alien looked up with a dazed look in his eyes. “What? Nothing. I— I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“What do you mean? Why aren’t you playing?” Jim asked he knelt next to him and tried to look him in the eye to see if he could tell what was going on.

“Oh, I can’t really play.” Rekiano said. He shrugged dismissively, but fingers were still ghosting along the surface of the instrument with the same loving care Jim had admired when he packed it up on the day Jim met him.

“Granted, I’ve never heard anyone else play, so maybe I don’t know what it’s meant to sound like, but I think you’re one hell of a musician,” Jim said, his voice soft with concern.

Rekiano laughed, but it sounded stiff and uncomfortable. “You’re just trying to flatter me now. This was my uncle’s. He gave it to me, but I didn’t inherit his skills,” he looked up at Jim with a half smile that faded into another confused stare. “I don’t know why I brought it with me today. I must have been missing him.”

Jim grabbed Rekiano by the shoulders, fighting the urge to shake him. “What’re you talking about? You always— “

“Let’s go, alright? I was already late last week and I can’t afford to have my wages cut again,” there was something sharp and brittle in Rekiano’s voice, so Jim let it go and walked with him into the factory in uncomfortable silence. He wanted to push. His concern and curiosity were screaming at him to press the issue, but his instincts told him it would not be productive right now. So he bit his tongue and headed in for the start of his shift. 

The Handler had duties besides just assigning and reassigned people their positions, it appeared. He visited each department once a week, Jim learned, to ensure that things were running smoothly and no workers were causing any issues. 

Jim’s stomach twisted at the sight of him looming over an engineering station. He was a deep red frock, embellished with shimmering things that Jim assumed were beetle wings along the edges. He was yelling at the young Plahktoran who was getting more and more flustered with each harsh word. 

“What’re you some kind of bottom-dwelling, filter-feeding fool?” The Handler spat out, leaning even closer over the young worker’s shoulder. “I told you to perform a simple positive reintegration matrix, not sabotage the whole floor with your ineptitude. Perhaps you belong in a different department if you can’t get something this essential correct.”

The positive reintegration matrix was not simple, and Jim highly doubted The Handler knew how to perform it himself. It required a steady hand and quick calculations— something that was never going to happen with The Handler’s menacing presence and threats. Jim jogged over and inserted himself in between the pair. 

The Handler’s lips curled and his nostrils flared. He opened his mouth, but Jim cut him off before he could speak. An action that caused The Handler’s grip to tighten around the tablet he was holding until his fingers paled. 

“Hey now, I don’t think there’s a need for all that. That’s not any way to motivate your staff,” he said, holding his hands up, “sir,” he added quickly. 

“You would do well not to get in my way when I am performing evaluations,” The Handler hissed in return.

The young Plahktoran turned to look at Jim directly now, his eyes pleading. Jim recognized him as the one who had taught him how to work this matrix on these machines. He had been a good teacher, patient, and happy to explain the entire procedure in as much detail as Jim had requested. Perfect.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I just happen to know that,” Jim paused to recall the name, “Fineshk here is one of the department’s most valuable workers. I would hate to see us lose such a valuable asset. Give him one more chance, please Sir,” Jim said. He pulled his face into what he hoped was a contrite expression. 

“Fine,” The Handler huffed, “But if you don’t this right, boy, both of you are going straight to Acquisition. Don’t act like you are providing us with something we can’t easily replace.” He took a step back and glared at the pair of them. “Now go, you worthless piece of scum.”

Jim bent closer to Fineshk under the pretense of grabbing some tools off of the neighboring work-station. “It’s okay. You can do this,” Jim said in a low voice. 

Fineshk’s hands were still shaking. 

“Hey, look at me,” Jim whispered, “pretend it’s just us, okay? Just you and me. You’re walking me through it again.”

“I can’t go to Acquisition. I have to—“

Jim cut him off before he could do down a spiral. “No need to think about that, right? You’re just training me again. No pressure.” 

“Stop that,” The Handler barked, “You aren’t allowed to coach him through this.”

Jim straightened up and walked away. “Just us,” he mouthed at Fineshk who nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. When he started work Jim could see him mouthing instructions to himself. He looked up and met Jim’s gaze every now and then and by the end he was almost smiling. The Handler, on the other hand, was clenching his jaw. His spines were twitching with irritation. 

Jim grinned to himself when the task was completed with no errors, but turned away before he could invoke any additional wrath from The Handler. He was dreading the rest of his shift with the man’s angry energy, but it turned out he spent the majority of his time at the shift supervisor’s desk scouring over tablets and datasheets. Jim finished his tasks early, as usual. He looked around the room, everyone still had their heads bowed over their workstations with the exception of a cleaner who was taking a break at one of the tables in the corner, eating a plate of puffed grains and playing with some sort of puzzle. Jim flicked his tablet on and opened up his notes on the changes he was planning on the refining machine. He picked up a spare part from his desk and opened it up. He could do this, but he needed an extra pair of hands. He scanned the room again, but everyone appeared intent on not raising The Handler’s wrath by doing anything except diligent work. He looked at the cleaner again, watching the way her long fingers quickly found the solution to each puzzle before the box reconfigured itself. Sure, she may not be a trained engineer, but she had the kind of mind that could easily adapt to Jim’s instructions. She noticed him looking at her and looked up. Jim gestured her over. He told her what he needed. 

“I’m not in engineering. I don’t think I—”

“I saw what you were doing with that puzzle. You are just what I need,” Jim said and smiled at her. “I know it’s your break, but I would be very grateful.”

The tips of her spines turned slightly orange at Jim’s smile. “Of course,” she said.

Jim had been right. She picked up fast and was able to manipulate the wires and codes in the way Jim needed her to with minimal instructions for someone who was unfamiliar with the system.

They had been working for only ten minutes and they were already close to the results Jim was looking for.

“That’s perfect,” Jim said, “Now if you could—”

“What is this?” The Handler interrupted them. 

“Just a side project, Sir,” Jim said. “I finished my tasks for the day.”

“And why does your side project require the use of the cleaning crew?” 

“I needed another set of hands and she’s very talented. Really, Sir, you should consider moving her to a division that suits her skill set better,” Jim said.

“This is the second time today that you’ve presumed to tell me how to do my job. I assure you if you do that again, it will be the end of you,” he responded. His voice low and dangerous. 

Jim fought the urge to laugh at the dramatic threat. “Yes sir,” he said. 

The Handler typed something with angry and forceful movements of his fingers into his glass tablet. “Send to medical,” he said into its microphone and then set it down with a loud clap. “You’re done for the day. I don’t want to see your arrogant face anymore,” he said to Jim.

Jim felt the same way and happily left the floor. He slipped a tablet from the shift supervisor’s desk up the sleeve of his uniform as he left. He was angry and frustrated and knew exactly what he wanted to do. If he needed to break some rules in order to get it, so be it. 

* * *

The work Spock was being assigned was easy for him. He completed all of the charting assignments he was given for the day well within the allocated time again. He considered moving on to reviewing the performance data for the long-haul ships, but was stopped by some unusual readings in the charts he had completed. There were signs that there were some large lifeforms in this quadrant. Spock cross-checked the life-signs he had picked up with the biological database and quickly found there was a large sea-dwelling mammal. The entry stated that many people on Terronda Prime considered them to be a myth, but the data that Spock was looking at appeared to contradict that belief. Spock attempted to access the historical database for more information, but found that his machine was blocked. He settled for scanning the databases he did have access to for any other information. He had several different projections of artwork, scientific sketches, and blurry holo-photos up surrounding him and was well into a novel about a man’s attempt to locate the creatures. He didn’t hear when the shift change chimed from his tablet. 

“Now, I wouldn’t take you for someone who slacked on the job, Mr. Spock, but I have to say, I’m not sure how this all relates to Marine Development.”

“Jim,” Spock said, aware that his voice sounded both surprised and delighted. Two emotions he was well aware he should be able to contain easily. “I finished my work some time ago. I was just engaging in some,” he paused, “recreational research.” 

“Ah, recreational research. A man after my own heart,” Jim smiled at him. 

“What are you doing here?” Spock asked and began to close down the various projections. 

“I decided not to leave the next time we ran into each other up to the fates,” Jim said with a smile on his face. He picked up a stylus off of Spock’s workspace and twirled it between his fingers. “It’s possible I hacked into the scheduling system in order to find out where you’d be and when, but I think that’s excusable.”

Spock considered the effort that Jim had gone to in order to find him and a smile threatened on the corner of his lips. “I’m not sure that Enforcement would say the same,” he said. 

Jim put down the stylus and winked at Spock. “Well, it was an emergency. I have a very important question to ask you.”

“And that is?” Spock asked and he started to pack up the tablets on his desk. 

“Do you play chess?” 

“I believe I am experienced with the game,” Spock said and he and Jim fell into step together as they walked towards the lift. 

“Excellent. I made a board that is mostly functional. Would you like to play a few games sometime?”

“I am available now,” Spock said. He surprised himself by the immediate response. Up until Jim asked the question, he had been looking forward to continuing his research regarding the readings he had found. 

Jim’s grin made Spock forget his concern.

“Well, that is excellent news, Mr. Spock.” He smiled at Spock so brightly that Spock had to look away. There was a warm sensation in Spock’s stomach that he knew he would have to meditate to identify, but at the moment he was content to enjoy the sensation and spend the evening with Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading <3 I know there wasn't much Spirk in this chapter, but the next one has a lot.


	7. Suspicions Voiced

Jim opened the door to his quarters and led Spock inside over to the table in his kitchen. The unit looked almost identical to Spock’s with the exception of various plants and minerals that he assumed Jim had collected to line the counters and bedside table. He noticed that Jim’s bed had a forcefield similar to his own and was struck by an urge to go and destroy the contraption with his bare hands. He shook the urge and made a note to find a way to talk to Jim about his strange experience with the beds. Jim led him into the kitchen where he had drawn an approximation of a chess board with some kind of bright blue pigment on his kitchen counter. Lined up on each side there were smooth red and white stones that had designs of each piece in a standard chess set etched in their surfaces. 

“They don’t have chess on Terronda Prime,” Jim said in explanation, “I think this should do the trick. Not as complex as a 3D set, but I have a feeling you’ll play an interesting game nonetheless,” Jim smiled at him and something in his eyes shimmered. Spock did not let himself be unnerved by the way that the other man’s smile affected him. He took a seat at the stool opposite Jim.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t find any black stones. Red will have to do. Here,” Jim said and leaned over the counter to start to set up the white stones on Spock’s half of the board. 

“That is a confidant move, Jim.” Spock said.

Jim winked at him. “I happen to be very good at chess. I wouldn’t invite you over here to try to impress you with a game I didn’t think I could win.”

“I also am an adept player,” Spock said as he made his first move.

“I wouldn’t have expected any less,” Jim said. He made his counter move quickly. 

They played on for several moves in silence. Jim was unpredictable. Or at least, his moves followed a pattern that Spock was not accustomed to and could not figure out. He found it unusually stimulating. 

“Where did you learn to play?” Jim asked, smiling at the furrow of Spock’s brow as he captured a bishop.

“I taught myself before I moved to Earth,” Spock said. “I was intrigued by how long the game had endured in your culture.”

Jim hummed in agreement, pausing to think about his next move. After he made it, he said, “my mother taught me how to play. I believe she just wanted something to keep my busy and out of the adult’s hair during family gatherings,” Jim chuckled. “It only made me harass all of my relatives until they agreed to play a game with me.”

Spock liked imagining a child version of the man in front of him carrying a chess board and begging adults to play with him. The edges of his mouth twitched towards a smile as he pictured it. 

“Where were you on Earth?” Jim asked. 

“San Francisco.” 

“Oh. I was there too. I do love that city. I wonder if we ever ran into each other.”

“It is unlikely. I did not spend a lot of time engaging with others, and I believe I would have remembered encountering you.”

Jim looked up at him with a smile that almost made Spock lose his control. “I’m that memorable, eh, Spock?”

“I have an eidetic memory,” Spock said and Jim’s smile faltered slightly. Spock frowned and added, “Besides, you have a dynamic personality and striking features.” He was not sure why he felt the need to elaborate, but once Jim’s face lit back up, Spock had his suspicions. 

“Well, I don’t have an eidetic memory and I know for a fact that I could never forget an encounter with you. No matter how small,” Jim said. His fingers brushed Spock’s as he displaced one of Spock’s pawns.

Spock could feel the blood moving to his face and was sure his cheeks would be colored green if he were to see his reflection. 

“So what were you doing in San Francisco while you were depriving me of the pleasure of knowing you?” Jim asked.

“I was—” Spock faltered. “I don’t recall.” This was unsettling.

Jim looked up at him. He tilted his head in question, but then furrowed his brow and slowly shook his head.

Jim fell into silence after that for a while. He returned to his usual state of animation as the game neared its conclusion. He won. Something that surprised Spock. He had played a fascinating and unpredictable game. 

“You are an intriguing player, Jim,” he said. 

“That’s the first time someone told me that. Usually people say I’m an irritating player,” Jim said.

“Vulcans do not feel irritation,” Spock said.

Jim laughed, though not unkindly, “alright, you up for another game then?”

Spock nodded his consent and Jim began to set up the board for the next game when an alert sounded at his door. He looked up and frowned before getting up to answer the tone.

There were three Plahktorans in pale yellow jumpsuits waiting at the door. Each was holding glass tablet and a few tools. 

“We have orders to make adjustments to your insomnum nutrient device,” the one at the front said and made a move to enter the room.

Spock got up and moved walked closer to the door so he could see what was happening more clearly. 

Jim did not move from the door and Spock was glad to see that Jim had some instinct that something strange was going on. “I wasn’t told there were adjustments to be made,” he said and put his hands on his hips.

The man at the front of the group sighed. “We have orders from medical,” he said and showed Jim the orders on the tablet but moved it away before Jim would have had time to thoroughly read them. 

“Apparently, there are some additions that need to be made to your regimen. You’re the first human we’ve had, so they didn’t get it totally right the first time around.”

“What are the additions?” Jim asked. He still did not move to allow them inside. The Plahktorans were shifting on their feet and looking at each other. One tapped her fingers against her thigh. 

“Look, I’m not the doctor I don’t know. I just fix things the way they tell me to,” he said and made another move to enter the room. He actually walked into Jim who was still standing there. 

He smiled at the man, but Spock noticed that his back was rigid and tense. “I know you’re just trying to do your job. You’ll have to forgive me; I’m sometimes too curious. Could I see the orders? I’ve been wondering about how this unusual device works.” 

The man at the front of the group drew back from Jim and lowered his arm that was holding the tablet. He said, “It’s all very technical; you wouldn’t understand” at the same time the woman behind him said, “it’s proprietary technology; we aren’t allowed to share it.” 

“It’s both,” the man corrected, “Now, would you please allow us to make the adjustments?”

Jim smiled in response to the sneer that had appeared on the man’s face. “Of course,” Jim said. The smile fell from his face the second he turned away from them and walked back towards Spock and the kitchen. 

Jim shifted his stool so he could watch the men while they worked and Spock did the same. He leaned close to Jim as he made his chess move and spoke in a low voice that he hoped conveyed the appropriate urgency, “Jim, I will explain more after the workers leave, but I strongly urge you not to sleep in the bed going forward.”

Jim leaned in towards him to whisper back. “Thank you. I assure you; I have no intention of sleeping in that machine every again.”

They continued to play while the workers made adjustments to the machinery above the bed. Both Spock and Jim were distracted. When the workers finally left and Spock was not even sure whose move it was. 

Jim walked over to the bed and immediately tried to open the control panel that the workers had been adjusting. 

“There is something strange going on here,” Jim said as walked back to the kitchen to grab a wooden fork from the drawer. He returned to the panel and tried to insert the fork into the metal crease and pry it open.

“I concur. I don’t know if you are aware that Vulcans have telepathic abilities. When I approached the bed in my own room, I felt a strange disturbance. As if the technology was trying to access my mind,” Spock said. A part of him had been on edge since he first moved into his apartment with the strange device. He was not able to identify why he trusted Jim with his concerns, but speaking them out loud to him relieved them slightly.

Jim took a large step back from the bed at Spock’s words. “Have you seen the folks who have worked here for a long time? They are shells of people. Just going through the motions,” Jim said with a shudder. He returned to sit next to Spock at the counter. 

“I have also noticed deliberate attempts to keep the Compound and its workers separate from the rest of the culture here,” Spock said, voicing a concern that had been growing over the last week. 

“Calculated isolation is not a good sign,” Jim added.

“Indeed.” Spock steepled his fingers and looked at the thoughtful expression on the other man’s face. 

“This morning, I spoke with a young man who had suddenly lost his ability to play this instrument. Out of the blue, but he did not seem to realize. He insisted he never knew how to play, when just yesterday he was playing songs that would put Tchaikovsky or Sanya to shame.”

“Fascinating,” Spock said. 

Jim stood up and started pacing. “And there is the question of these gaps in my memories. Yours as well. Neither of us remember what we did in San Francisco. Yet we both were there for a significant period of time.”

“My memory of coming to work here is also strange,” Spock said.

“Elaborate?”

“It does not feel right. I apologize for the lack of detail or clarity, but I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s sterile. It does not match my other memories.”

“I understand what you mean. I think I feel the same,” Jim said. He rubbed his hands together and cast a side look at his bed. “This is something we need to continue to investigate. There is something off and I am determined to find out what the game is here. Find out more about what is happening telepathically with these devices,” he looked at Spock, “if you don’t mind. Don’t cause yourself any pain. I’ll try to get some more information about what is happening to the workers. I think we should meet regularly. We may be each other's only allies…”

“I agree,” Spock said. 

“After your shift tomorrow?” Jim asked as he led Spock to the door.

Spock nodded and paused before he left the other man’s quarters. “Use caution, Jim.”

“I will if you will,” Jim said. 

Spock raised his eyebrows and nodded. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing on this journey with me! Your kudos and comments fill me with joy!


	8. Ocean Outing

Jim was determined to solve this puzzle. Every part of him felt uneasy and tense. So over the next few days, he threw himself into trying to gain as much data as possible. He tried to charm all the information out of his coworkers that he could. He went through all the material he could find in the database about the Compound and flagged every line with any sort of language that read as a potential euphemism for something darker. He had disconnected his tablet from the Compound network and reconfigured a scrambling device that he used when conducted any of his research. He hadn’t been able to find a pen and paper so he had created charcoal sticks that he used to take notes on recycled bits of cloth. It often meant that he would show up to meetings with Spock with charcoal smudges up and down his arms and on his face. He could tell it amused Spock, despite the Vulcan’s denials. So maybe he stopped checking the mirror to ensure he didn’t have dark smudges across his face before he left out to meet with Spock. It was worth it to see the sparkle in the other man’s eyes and the slight twitch of his lips. Jim was getting better at reading Spock’s expressions. It almost felt like he was relearning a language he had heard as a child. He would be speaking to Spock one minute and the next he was suddenly hit with the knowledge of that when Spock raised his eyebrows in that certain way it was because he was making a joke.

Jim arrived early for his meeting with Spock today, eager to talk to him about a suspicion that had been confirmed after several long coaxing conversations with one of his coworkers and a few hacks into the personnel database. 

“Spock,” he said. He clasped Spock on the shoulder and pulled him closer. “The promotional pamphlets talk about work station mobility—” he began.

“Jim,” Spock interrupted, “I am looking forward to hearing your most recent discovery, however that isn’t why I asked to meet you this afternoon.”

Jim was confused. Spock was just as eager as he was to figure out what was going on. 

“You've been working very hard on this project,” Spock said, “it’s my understanding that humans are more efficient and productive when they have periods of rest or relaxation. I'm providing that opportunity. If you are interested?”

“Yes, I am,” Jim said. He was touched at the thought and to be honest it would be good to get out of his own head for a bit. 

“Good. Come with me,” Spock said. He led them through the city towards a large block of docks and then to a small boat. There was enough room for two metal chairs and a steering device. Jim smiled. 

There were two guards standing by the plank to the boat. They held out a hand to Spock who gave them a tablet. 

They looked between the tablet and Spock suspiciously. Spock’s face remained calm and steady under their gaze. After a minute of them reading over whatever was on the screen they stepped aside and allowed Spock to climb into the boat. 

The two guards gestured to Jim. “And him?” One asked. 

“He is the engineering consultant mentioned in my approved proposal,” Spock said simply. The two guards stepped aside and allowed Jim to enter the boat as well. They left with a curt reminder of the time the boat needed to be returned. 

Once they were out of earshot, Jim chuckled. “What exactly am I meant to be consulting on here?”

“I submitted a proposal to research the new area that the mining operation is attempting to expand into. I informed them that a more detailed scan of the area was required in order for me to complete my work. I also stated that having an engineer accompany me would be beneficial.”

“I thought Vulcans didn’t lie,” Jim said, with a teasing grin. 

“I did not lie,” Spock’s tone was indignant, but Jim could see amusement in his eyes. “ I merely provided minimum details. If they fill in incorrect details, then so be it. It is beneficial for you to join me. I get to enjoy the benefit of your company and you get the benefits of time spent in recreation. It was not relevant to my proposal to inform them that the scans will only take a few moments.” 

Jim grinned. “You're clever, Mr. Spock. I'm glad you're on my team.” 

Spock raised his eyebrows and the warmth in his eyes nearly bowled Jim over. He clutched the edge of the boat instead. 

Once they cleared the harbor the boat moved fast. Zipping over the waves easily. Jim closed his eyes against the spray of water and smiled. Spock had been right. He had felt like a tiger trapped in a cage all week. Just the sensation of being out of the city and heading fast towards something new was already easing his stress. 

He turned to thank Spock, but when he looked over at him, Jim was distracted. Spock had one hand on the controls and was looking out at the horizon. He had a small smile on his face and the ocean air had mussed up the hair around his temples. He looked stunning. 

“The air smells wrong... not wrong,” he corrected himself. “Just not like the oceans on Earth.”

“There's no sodium chloride in the water,” Spock said. 

“Of course,” Jim trailed his fingers in the water. He felt Spock’s eyes tracking his movements. He licked some of the mist that had gathered on his lips. His mind was expecting the same salty taste that would have come from oceans at home. 

The land disappeared behind them, and for the first time since he had arrived on this planet a particular kind of joy flooded his body. Jim closed his eyes and let the sensation overtake him. He loved the way the wind felt against his face, loved the feeling of his shirt collar fluttering against his neck. He wanted to tell Spock how good this felt— charging full speed ahead with the Vulcan at his side— but he wasn’t sure how to express it.

“When I was a kid, about eight, I think, I— borrowed a horse from our neighbor and ran away,” Jim said.

“Were you unhappy at home?” Spock asked, his eyebrows coming together in clear concern.

“No, nothing like that. I was bored. I had spent weeks reading about other people having adventures. Sam Gribley and S’Blen. Lyra Silvertongue and Aliya Salib. I wanted to have one of my own,” Jim said.

“So you stole a horse?” 

“Borrowed. A very important distinction.”

“I see.”

“I was about 800 meters from the house and I felt something just— rip free in me. It felt joyous and open. The wind and the unknown beating at my face. I didn’t know what discovery I was about to make, but I knew it would be spectacular,” Jim turned from the endless ocean in front of him and looked over at Spock. The dark blue scarf he had around his neck had come undone and was blowing out behind him. He was smiling at Jim. Not with his mouth, but Jim knew it was a smile. “That was the first time I felt… what I’m feeling now.” Jim hoped Spock could sense the gratitude in his eyes. 

“You have always been an adventurer,” Spock observed. 

“What about you?” Jim asked.

Spock paused, considering what he was about to say. “When I was around the same age, my father took me on a spaceship for the first time. I was young and not well trained in the teachings of Surak. I let out an emotional display that my father was extremely disappointed with.”

“An emotional display?” Jim asked, surprised. 

“Yes, I ran over to the window. I laughed and then I cried. I did not realize I was doing it, but I was not able to identify or categorize any of my emotions in order to control them. I was overwhelmed.” 

Jim allowed himself a moment to imagine a young Spock, hands and face pressed into the glass watching all of space open up before him. "Your father was embarrassed by that?” 

“Vulcans do not get embarrassed,” Spock quickly corrected, as if on instinct. “However, he did not approve of my actions. When I pointed out that he was displaying anger, it did not improve the situation.”

Jim laughed. “You have the heart of an explorer too, Spock.”

“I do not see how my cardiovascular system is relevant,” Spock said.

Jim laughed harder at that and placed a hand on Spock’s shoulder. 

The rest of the boat trip passed quickly. Spock anchored the vessel. “I believe we are in the correct area. I will take the necessary readings to justify our outing and then there is something else I think you will find agreeable.”

Jim nodded and settled back into the metal seat to allow Spock to take the readings he needed to. The wind was blowing hard in this area. The clothes Jim was wearing had gathered the ocean mist and settled cold and damp against his skin. He wished he had brought along a thermos of hot coffee. The water was dark here, visibility was low and swells of waves kept the boat rocking. Spock sent down a few scanners on thick metal ropes and then set up a surface scanner that darted along the surface like a waterbug. Without much to look at in terms of scenery, Jim found himself more than content to watch Spock work. He was engrossed in what he was doing, despite his previous statement that the scans he had to do were basic and easy. The frown of concentration on his face made Jim smile to himself. His long fingers moved over the tablets quickly and Jim was easily transfixed by their deft and graceful movements. After about five minutes of Spock working in silence he noticed that his movements had slowed. His fingers were growing slightly green and his motions went from looking quick and graceful to slow and labored. Jim quickly realized that if he was cold, Spock must be even colder.

“Spock,” he said softly, “You must be freezing.”

Spock looked up at him. “I noticed my fingers were having difficulty working the data on the tablet,” he said, “However, I chose wool garments which keep me insulated despite any moisture they take on.”

Jim fished in the pocket of his coat and pulled out a pair of gloves. They were non-conductive gloves that he wore when he was doing electrical work, but they should provide at least some warmth. “Here,” he said. He reached out and grabbed Spock’s wrist. His tunic had slipped back so Jim’s fingers landed on bare skin. He heard Spock’s sharp intake of breath despite the sound of the wind and the waves. He slowly took one glove and pulled it over the Vulcan’s hands. His thumbs trailed down Spock’s palms as he tugged the glove on. Something sparked within him at the contact— hot and electric. Spock’s eyes had fluttered shut and he almost shuddered. Jim let his fingers linger on Spock’s bare wrist after he finished placing the second glove, hungry for more contact. Spock was staring at him, mouth slightly open, and eyes half shut. He looked beautiful and slightly undone. Jim was contemplating leaning forward and kissing him when an alert chimed on Spock’s tablet. 

Spock shook himself and blinked as if coming out of sleep. He pulled his hand away from Jim’s grasp before mummering, “thank you.” 

He returned to his readings and Jim turned away so he wouldn’t see the blush on his face. It only took a few more minutes before Spock was done.

He pulled another tablet out of his bag and moved so Jim could look at it with him. “There is a large marine mammal that feeds in this area. It is not documented beyond older unverified tales of sailors encountering it. However, I came across undeniable data about its existence while reviewing the Compound’s plans to expand mining operations here.”

“Would the mining impact the creatures’s habitat?” Jim asked

Spock looked at him with a smile in his eyes. “That’s what I’m hoping we can prevent. First, I am hoping we can visually confirm its existence.” he said.

Jim beamed back at him. “How can I help?”

Spock handed him a tablet. “I believe they communicate underwater using a specific type of sound-wave. If you could attach that to a wire and lower it into the water, I am hoping we can lure one closer to the surface.” 

The device disappeared a few meters into the dark waters. Jim turned to Spock with an excited smile. They did not have to wait long. The water soon began to part as a large gray figure came to the surface. Jim gasped and almost fell out of the chair as he leaned towards the edge of the boat. The creature was large— at least ten times the size of their boat. It had smooth rubbery skin and huge dark eyes. It looked similar to a sperm whale, but it had deep red tentacles that formed a thick tangle by its mouth. The creature looked at them for a long time, before flicking its tail and dousing them with a cold stream of water. 

Jim laughed. “It’s magnificent.” 

Spock’s eyes were wide and darting around as if trying to take in all of the creature at once. They stood there in silence, each unable to look away from the sight before them. The creature swam around their boat, nudged it with its nose a few times, but otherwise did not seem bothered by their presence. Eventually it appeared to grow bored and disappeared underneath the surface again. 

Jim hadn’t realized that he had grabbed on to Spock’s arm when it first emerged, but now he was very aware of his tight grip. He released it. Neither of them were quite ready to talk, but Spock turned the boat around.

Halfway through their journey back, Jim started to explain that he had found a distinct pattern to how people changed positions within the Compound. He explained that each person lasts for about two years, four maximum, at their starting post. The higher up they were the more likely they were to stay longer. After that, they spent shorter and shorter at each posting before they ended up in Acquisition. Jim was not sure what the purpose of moving people so consistently down the ranks, but the pattern made him suspicious. Spock agreed with him and they spent the remainder of the trip theorizing what benefit the organization got from this pattern.

Jim stilled when the docks came into sight. Spock seemed to sense his need to appreciate the diminishing feeling of freedom and fell into silence as well. Jim closed his eyes against the sight of land and spent the last few minutes of their trip enjoying the ocean water splattering against his face and the wind whipping his damp hair against his skin. 

Spock docked the boat and placed all of his tablets in his bag. The same guards who had signed off on their departure were waiting for them. 

They didn’t speak as they logged the boat’s safe return in the system and shooed Jim and Spock away. 

Nighttime was approaching and Jim knew he should return to his apartment, but he still diverted Spock towards the shore, extending their walk back to the living quarters. He wasn’t willing to let go of this afternoon just yet. He let his arm brush against Spock’s as they walked. 

Spock stopped in front of the door to Jim’s apartment.

“Thank you,” Jim said, “for this. You were right. I did need it.”

Spock turned to face him. They were standing close together and Jim could feel the heat from Spock’s body. He placed a hand on Spock’s shoulders. He had meant the gesture to be friendly, but with Spock so close to him and in the fading light, it felt very intimate. Spock’s eyes flickered around Jim’s face, before settling on his forehead. 

“What?” Jim asked.

“Your hair curls when it is wet,” Spock said. His voice was slightly rough. He reached up and brushed a curl from Jim’s forehead, his fingers ghosting hot against his skin. 

“Yeah,” Jim said. It was not an eloquent response, but his stomach was flipping under the intensity of Spock’s gaze. He let his hand trail down Spock’s arm until it brushed against his fingers. Jim felt a current pass between them again and Spock shivered. Jim leaned even closer. “Spock,” he began.

“Jim!” 

Jim jumped at the sound of his name being yelled. Spock did as well and suddenly there was a regrettable distance between them. 

“Jim!” The voice called again and it took Jim a moment, but he recognized as Rekiano’s. The Plahktoran was rushing towards them. He had a black eye and was missing one shoe. He stopped before them panting, eyes wide with panic, spines trembling. “Please help,” he said, his voice cracking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The working title of this chapter was WHALE DATE in all caps.


	9. First Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this update is late. I had a lot of unexpected work issues and family issues that combined with this chapter being mostly plot and action.

The Plahktoran crumpled against Jim’s chest— his breathing was rapid and shallow. It seemed to have taken all of his energy to call out. Spock took another step back and scanned the area the Plahktoran had come from. Five aliens dressed in security uniforms were running towards them, holding long metal rods out in front of them. Spock tensed and stepped in between the approaching guards and Jim who was still holding the shaking young man. 

“Rekiano,” Jim said in a horse whisper, “What is going on?”

“I’ll explain, just, don’t let them take me,” Rekiano said. 

Jim turned and looked at Spock who nodded towards the guards rapidly approaching them. “Okay,” he said. He gently moved Rekiano from his chest and sat him on a rock by the road before joining Spock. 

“You should go,” he said quietly to Spock. 

Spock considered it for a moment, but knew that he couldn’t leave Jim to face the angry guards alone. Jim seemed to trust Rekiano and that was enough for Spock. 

Jim put his hands on his hips and called out, “Can I help you folks?”

“That man has attacked security officers and attempted to flee the compound without authorization.”

Jim stepped closer to them. “It seems to me he was just defending himself. Move along. He’s not going to try anything else now. I’ll see to it.” 

The authority in Jim’s voice did not waver as the security officers looked between each other and then raised their batons. 

“You do not want to do that. This man has done nothing that he should be punished for. I’m sure of that.” 

Jim looked over at Spock and nodded his head slightly to the left. Spock slowly walked in that direction. There were only five officers and they did not appear to have weapons beyond the metal rods. Spock estimated he could take out the two at the rear before the others even noticed. Jim continued to argue loudly and held their attention, while Spock moved silently into position. He easily found the correct nerves and applied pressure to the two guards at the back until they collapsed. The guards at the front yelled and charged towards Spock, but Jim tackled two to the ground and Spock avoided the charge of the other. 

Jim brushed the dust off his trousers and Spock’s robe. He moved over to Rekiano and assisted him to his feet. 

“We need to get out of here. None of our rooms are safe if they wake up. It won’t be hard for them to confirm the identities of the only human and Vulcan on the planet.”

Rekiano picked up one of the discarded poles. “They don’t have to wake up.”

Spock moved quickly to intervene. They did not need blood on their hands. However, Jim got there first. He put a gentle hand on Rekiano’s arm and lowered it. “You don’t want to do that. It would only feel good in the moment.”

Spock observed Rekiano swallow and clench his jaw, but he took a long look at Jim’s face and dropped the rod. “I know a spot we can go. For a few hours at least. There’s a shop being renovated around the corner. Should be easy enough to slip in and no one will be there for the next few days so it should be safe.” 

“Now, tell me what’s going on,” Jim said in a soft voice once they entered the empty store front.

“It’s my brother,” Rekiano began, “he’s gotten into trouble. Again. He’s been involved with this group in our town that… they aren’t good people. They started out running an illegal mining operation, but then they started getting involved in worse things… He said he was going to try to scam them, but—” 

Spock’s translator stumbled over the next string of words that Rekiano said. Spock assumed that the translator had not been programmed to translate words that were considered expletives. He put his face in his hands before looking back up at Jim and continuing.

“He’s an idiot who couldn’t lie to save his life. His spines always shake like reeds in the wind. I told him not to. I told him so many times, and he agreed. But I just got this comm from him. He’s scared out of his mind. Wouldn’t tell me what’s going on and I need to get home. Only they wouldn’t let me leave. I told them my brother was hurt and I needed to get home, but they just said I had to take out a leave request with my supervisor. Said it was too dangerous to let me go on my own. So I just tried to make a break for it. And, well, you caught the end of how that turned out…”

Spock noted his concern growing. It was not unexpected that the Compound would prevent its workers from coming and going as they pleased, but this made it clear that they had no hesitations using physical violence to enforce the rules. 

“They give the illusion of a happy and thriving workforce, but really we are all prisoners here,” Jim said. His voice was tight and clipped. Spock noticed his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but seemed determined.

“I’m sorry I came to you with this. I just— I couldn’t think of anyone else who could help me. Or would,” Rekiano said. His breathing was speeding up again and his fingers were tapping rapidly against his leg. 

“I’m glad you did. We are going to find a way for you to get home safely. I promise,” Jim’s voice had shifted so it was measured and soft. He gripped Rekiano’s shoulder as he spoke and the Plahktoran appeared to be calmed by his words. “Now, you just tend to that scrape. I am going to go talk to Mr. Spock for a minute and try to figure out our plan.” 

Rekiano nodded and Jim rose and walked over to Spock. 

“There are guards at all of the exit points from the district. Even the damn docks,” Jim said. He clasped his hands together rubbing them together as he thought. “If we could gain access to a boat we may be able to find a starting point that didn't draw attention.”

“I have not seen any water-crafts capable of making any significant voyages except the acquisition boats,” Spock said. 

“And those are more heavily guarded than the exits, and require multiple people to operate” Jim said and sighed. 

“There is also the issue of the journey itself.”

Jim turned to Rekiano. “Do you know how far out the Compound guards reach?”

Spock anticipated the answer that came. 

“On my trip here they were at checkpoints between the first two peninsulas. And I know they coordinate with local law enforcement.” 

“Thank you,” Jim said before turning back to Spock. He lowered his voice. “He can’t risk the journey. There are too many points he could be intercepted at.”

Spock steepled his fingers and leaned against the counter. “A planet this advanced should have transporter technology. I believe using both of our skills we should be able to hack into it and force it to transport Rekiano home.”

“Or at the very least make the journey that much shorter.” 

They continued to work on a plan. Rekiano informed them that when high ranking officials came to his village they would turn up out of thin air, which confirmed Spock’s suspicions and also indicated that the most likely location for the transporter was in the capitol building. 

Now they needed a way to get out of the Compound district and to the Capitol building. Jim was pacing and calling out ideas, but he would dismiss before Spock could point out any potential flaws. Spock was aware with every moment that passed they were more at risk of being discovered. It was not until Jim said, “if there was only some way we could go underground.” That Spock realized he had a solution. 

“I believe this part of the city has an antique sewer system that has been sealed. I believe I have walked over a gate many times on my way to the Compound building. It should be fairly simple to navigate once we enter the tunnels.”

Jim clasped him by the shoulders and grinned. “Yes, Spock, that is brilliant. Brilliant. We should be able to undo the seal easily enough. I have a few… modified engineering tools I…. liberated that should be able to do the trick.”

Spock noticed the corners of his mouth involuntarily twitch into a smile at Jim’s indiscretion. “That is very useful, Jim.”

Jim smiled back at him, before his face fell back into a look of concentration. Jim left to retrieve the tools from his room. Spock was apprehensive about Jim going alone. He was sure the guards had identified him before they made their escape, but acknowledged that logically Jim would be less conspicuous travelling by himself. 

Spock adjusted his tablet in order for it to function as a navigating tool. It did not take long and with the plan sorted out it left Spock with time to contemplate the moments before Rekiano had appeared. He could still feel the heat of Jim’s hands against his arm and fingers, even though he knew it was not logical. He would have to meditate on what exactly it was that Jim’s presence elicited in him, but he knew, in reality, he already had an idea of what it was. He had been drawn to the man in a way that startled him since the moment he saw him. Spock was not one to make irrational claims or reach conclusions based on things that were not proven facts, however the thought that he must have known Jim before, kept coming to him unbidden. Spock closed his eyes and focused on the present moment and situation. They had very little time to find their way out of the district and locate the transporter technology. He could not be preoccupied with irrational thoughts. 

Jim returned, unscathed and unseen, with the tools they needed and the three of them crept out of the shop and made their way to the sealed sewer grate that Spock had noticed. Jim’s tools worked well and they were close enough to the water that the snap of the metal breaking and releasing could not be heard over the sound of the waves. Both Jim and Spock tried to enter first. 

“Jim,” Spock said, “I am using the navigation tools. It is logical for me to go first.” He felt like that should have been the end of the discussion, but Jim held out an arm to stop him.

“We don’t know what we’re going to find in there. I don’t want you going first. I have more fighting experience. I’ll go first; you can direct me. “

“I have been trained in several variety of martial arts and my strength is superior to yours,” Spock said simply.

Jim chuckled and took a step closer to Spock. “Is that so? Do you think you could take me, Mr. Spock?”

Spock raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in thought. “I believe I could.”

Spock could see the spark in the other man’s eyes despite the darkness. “We’ll just have to test that sometime soon.” There was a smile threatening to break out on Jim’s face that fell when Rekiano interrupted— 

“I could always go first. It’s my escape after all.”

“No,” both Jim and Spock said in unison. Rekiano looked between them and laughed. In the end, Spock consented to Jim \going first. Rekiano followed behind him and Spock took up the rear called out navigational instructions. The air in the tunnels was stale. Spock found that his breathing was less efficient. At points they had to crawl where tunnels had collapsed or narrowed. Spock was grateful the tunnels were old enough that there was only a thin layer of dirt covering the bottoms. He led them around a section of the system that had been flooded. They unsealed another entrance that Spock calculated was close to the Capitol building. 

There were still civilians milling about once they reached the surface. Evidently there was no curfew in this part of the city. As they approached the building Jim held out a hand to slow the trio down. 

“You know, I’m still not used to the air here,” he said, “everything ends up slightly sticky doesn’t it?” He laughed. He was holding his body deliberately relaxed, shoulders at ease, his body language open and calm, but there was a sharpness in his eyes. Rekiano responded to Jim, following his lead in an attempt to appear casual. Spock continued to watch the others around them, attempting to identify anyone who appeared suspicious of the presence of a Plahktoran flanked by two alien species walking towards the capitol building.

The building itself was bright white stone. They found a side entrance easily enough and slipped in unseen. It was quiet inside. Dimly lit by devices lining the floor next to channels of water. The sound of running water was loud and Spock was concerned it would interfere with his ability to hear approaching footsteps. 

“Too bad they don’t have a map,” Jim said in a low voice. He was looking around the open room they had entered. 

“We came here for a tour when I was a kid,” Rekiano said, “The top three floors were off limits. We should probably start there.”

Spock agreed and they set off, taking the stairs. The restricted floors were barred by an electronically locked door, which Spock was able to unlock by disabling the current to the locking mechanism. In contrast to the lower floors which were open and all bright white stone, the room past the door was a long dark hallway filled with closed doors. Spock pulled out his scanner.

“Can you alter that to pick up on transporter energy?” Jim asked. Spock nodded. It was what he had already intended to do. 

A room at the end of the hall was emitting the correct energy. The door was not locked and they entered to find a straight forward looking transporter. Jim quickly got to work hacking into it.

“We don’t want it traceable,” he said and allowed Spock to finish making the adjustments. 

“Alright, I think we’re good,” Jim said as they finished their work. 

Rekiano stepped on to the pad. “Thank you. Both.” Jim stepped forward and gave the young Plahktoran a brief hug, and Spock nodded in acknowledgement. 

As soon as Rekiano disappeared from the transporter room Jim’s shoulders relaxed. He smiled at Spock, who noticed an urge to move closer to the other man, to make some form of physical contact to acknowledge their success. It was at that moment that he heard rapid footsteps approaching the room.

“Jim, we need to leave now,” Spock said.

Jim immediately tensed again. “Security?”

“I believe so,” Spock grabbed Jim’s wrist and pulled him towards the door. The footsteps were coming from the stairs below them. It was unlikely that they could find an exit on the floors above, but it was the only direction they could go to escape. Jim seemed to draw the same conclusion and ran to the steps with Spock following close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end on another cliff-hanger! I hope to get the next chapter out soon (it was originally going to be part of this one.) You can come yell at me [on tumblr](https://m-b-w.tumblr.com/) about it. Thank you all for reading! Your views and kudos and comments mean a lot!


	10. The Auctionhouse

Jim ran to the stairs, very aware of Spock’s tight grip on his arm and his own heartbeat loud and fast. He’d never imagined his life would end on an alien planet being chased by their law enforcement with a Vulcan at his side, but perhaps he should have guessed. No, Jim thought to himself. There was a way out of this. He and Spock together, could find a way out of this. 

Spock glanced behind them, “Captain!” He called out. Jim, on instinct, quickly turned to see a Plahktoran in a deep blue suit coming from an office near the stairs. He lunged at Jim’s ankles, but Jim was quick enough to dodge the attack and knock him down. Spock dragged the man into the room he’d come from and shut the door before running back to Jim and starting the ascent up the large staircase. 

At the top of the steps, they burst into a wide empty room— a spiral staircase in the opposite corner leading to the next floor, but no other apparent exits besides the way they had just come. There was a large and ornate fountain in the center of the room— its water was rushing loudly and it drowned out Jim’s ability to hear any commotion below them. He jogged to the edge of the room and looked out the window. They were too high up to survive a jump. He eyed the spiral staircase suspiciously. Going up to another floor only seemed to delay the inevitable capture. He looked to Spock, ready to assess their options, but Spock was kneeling on the floor by the fountain. His ear was tilted towards the ground, one hand lay flush against the floor and the other was gently tapping.

Jim jogged over and knelt beside him. “Spock?” 

“Listen,” Spock said, as he knocked again. It was a hollow sound. As Spock continued to rap against the stone floor, a shining metal handle emerged as if it had been synthesized by the vibrations of Spock’s tapping. Spock and Jim exchanged a glance, before Jim tugged opened the door and they both slipped into the dark space below. 

The door clicked shut and there was the sound of stone shifting. The space was confined and Jim tried to think of the uses for a secret hiding space below a seemingly empty room. Jim felt the heat of Spock’s chest almost touching his own. He felt Spock’s breath as it moved against his hair. The urge to reach out and touch him was rising rapidly in Jim, but he pushed it aside. It was not the time to become distracted.

“Spock, back there, you— called me Captain. What was that?” Jim asked. 

“I don’t know,” Spock said softly. Jim could hear Spock’s furrowed brow in his voice. “I have theories, but they are not based on facts or any discernible evidence. Perhaps this is a conversation for another time,” Spock said.

“I can’t argue with that,” Jim said with a chuckle. He couldn’t hear noises coming from above, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the thick stone above their heads or because the security forces had not yet followed them to this room. After a few moments of only the sound of Spock’s and his own breaths, Jim heard heavy footsteps above them. He grasped on to Spock’s arm, despite knowing Spock’s vulcan hearing had alerted him well before Jim had heard them. Jim could feel Spock’s muscles firm and tensed underneath his fingers. He leaned closer to Spock— his scent both intoxicating and comforting. The footsteps above them grew louder and then faded. Jim reached a hand to the ceiling of the enclosed space, feeling for any gap in the solid stone. 

“We should wait longer before we try to go back out. I don’t know how long they will continue to look for us, but I can’t imagine they will give up easily,” Jim said.

“That won’t be necessary,” Spock said. Jim felt him shift beside him so he was facing the opposite wall. “I believe this is a passageway.” Jim heard the shifting of some sort of mechanism, metal grinding against metal, and the wall raised up, filling the room in a soft green light. There were lanterns lining another staircase, this one was made out of a silvery stone. The walls going down were lined with gemstones that appeared to glow with the light from the lanterns. Small streams of water trickled down the walls in between the stones. 

“I do not know where this leads, but I admit I am curious about why a hallway this opulently decorated would also need to be hidden,” Spock said.

“I’d say finding out is preferable to facing our chances up there,” Jim said..

“Indeed,” Spock said and together they made their way down the stairs.

They descended for a long time. Jim was unsure of how long it took, though he was sure Spock would be able to provide him with the exact time if he asked. 

The stairs led to a large pair of doors, thick and made of a light colored wood decorated with carvings of sea creatures. Jim turned and looked at Spock, who raised his eyebrows, before prying the doors open. The room was large, another fountain in the middle mirrored the room they had come from. Deep green curtains lined the exterior of the room and there was a stage on the far side. Jim entered slowly, cautious and looking around for any signs of movement. Lining the rooms there were white stands as Jim approached he noticed they appeared to be made out of engraved fish bones. On top of the stands nestled in thick green cloth, were small electronicl chips with glass tablets covered in Plahktoran script underneath. 

“Spock,” Jim motioned the Vulcan over to him. Spock immediately pulled out his tablet to translate the text.

**MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE- LEVEL RQ6- EQUIVALENT TO FOUR YEARS OF INTENSIVE SCHOOLING. NO SPECIALITIES. INCLUDES ENTRY INTO TOLADEN MEDICAL ACADEMY. STARTING BID 85,000**

 

Jim looked at Spock, who was frowning, his fingers running along the edge of his tablet. He stepped to the side to translate the next podium.

**FLUENCY IN ANCIENT PLAHKTORAN- LEVEL RL9 - INCLUDES WRITTEN AND VERBAL FLUENCY. STARTING BID 60,000**

 

Jim clenched his jaw, uncomfortable with the implications of the text. He noted Spock’s tensed shoulders and stern face as he moved on to the next stand.

**ABILITY TO PLAY LEEAHK - LEVEL IA7 - INCLUDES HIGH LEVEL OF KNOWLEDGE REGARDING MUSICAL THEORY AND A COLLECTION OF AT LEAST 30 TRADITIONAL SONGS. STARTING BID 62,000**

 

A cold anger ran through Jim and confirmed his suspicions. “This is the instrument that Rekiano used to play before the knowledge just— vanished. They are— stealing people’s knowledge— their skills,” Jim hissed. He felt sick. “How?”

Spock’s face looked solemn in the low light— his brows knit closely together and a slight frown. “It fits with the telepathic abilities I noticed in the species. I suspect the beds are responsible for the removal.”

“So they, what, take skills and knowledge from the workers and then auction them off to people who can afford—” Jim grimaced and sighed. 

“It is an effective way to centralize power and wealth and maintain a stagnant lower class,” Spock said.

Jim turned, “You can’t be saying this is right.”

“I said it was effective, Jim, not that I agreed with it,” Spock said clearly. 

Jim turned back to the chip that advertised Rekiano’s leeahk playing skill. “I’m not going to let them auction this one off,” he said firmly.

“Jim—” Spock began, but Jim had already snatched the chip and put it into his pocket. There was a moment delay before a horn-like alarm began to blare. The lanterns in the room turned red and started to flash. 

Jim grabbed Spock’s arm and bolted. They ran through a small door behind the stage that led into another passageway— small, dark and nothing like the glamorous and glitzy entrance they had entered the auction house from. Jim placed one hand against the wall to guide himself as he ran and was comforted by the sound of Spock’s steps close behind him. 

They emerged from the passageway to an empty kitchen filled with stacks of glass trays and light blue goblets. Jim peered out of the door into another hallway. There was no sign of guards, though Jim was not sure how long their luck would last. They needed to get out of this building. Jim tried the doors of the rooms they passed in the hallway until one opened freely. He checked to make sure it was clear before gesturing Spock inside. As he closed the door behind them he heard a clattering of glass coming from the kitchen. The room they were in was another office. A stone desk was piled with tablets of varying sizes, behind it there was a large window. Jim pried it open and looked out. It was still a bit of a fall, but there was an outcropping below the window they could land on and then slide into the street. 

“Alright, Mr. Spock, ready for a bit of a jump?” Jim asked.

Spock joined him at the window. He tucked his tablet into his robes and climbed over the edge of the window. Jim took a moment to be amazed that Spock somehow still looked graceful as he swung his legs over the window sill and crouched on the edge. He watched him jump down and slide safely into the street below before he did the same, making sure the shut the window the best he could before making the descent. 

The streets were much emptier than they were when they had entered the building. It would not be easy for them to disguise themselves as citizens dawdling after a night out, and their alien appearances made them stand out anyway. Jim knew they needed to get off the streets quickly, but he had no desire to return to the compound. Staying in a room with that device above his bed seemed unconscionable now that he knew the full extent of what it did. In addition, the guards they had knocked out would have awoken by now and he doubted they would be welcomed back to their positions. 

Jim led Spock out of the city, the sound of waves and the breeze of the ocean guiding him. They made it to the water’s edge without being intercepted. 

“Jim,” Spock said and pointed to a boat, anchored close to the shore. 

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind us borrowing it for the night,” Jim said with a grin, “At least until we figure out our next move.”

Spock tilted his head, “I do not think that is accurate, however, it is our best option.”

Jim laughed and eyed the boat. It was close, but they would have to swim out to where it was moored. He removed his outer clothes until he was dressed only in his underwear. He placed his shoes inside his clothes and wrapped them in a tight bundle. Spock followed suit and Jim tried not to stare at his pale lithe form in the starlight— the tight muscles, the dark curly hair sprinkled across his chest and legs. 

Spock’s raised brows and amused eyes when he turned to look at Jim indicated that he had not been successful in refraining from ogling the Vulcan. Jim turned away and cleared his throat, a blush rising on his face, but not before he noticed Spock’s gaze slowly run down his own form. Jim smiled. “Well then, looks like we’re in for a bit of a swim.”

The water was calm and Jim appreciated the shock of the cold water surrounding his body. They made it to the boat quickly. Spock climbed on to the deck first and easily lifted Jim aboard. He removed his tablet from his bundle of robes and located a tracking device. He ripped it out and tossed it into the water. Jim recognized enough of the controls of the vesile to plot a course for a spot in the ocean that would not expose them to the rough elements of the open sea, but was far enough away that they would not be located anytime soon. 

With that taken care of, the pair retreated to the cabin below deck. It was small, but well equipped with a bed that could be tucked away, cushioned benches lining the walls, and a small table in the corner where they draped their wet clothes to dry. 

Jim was still filled with the adrenaline from the escape. He paced around the small cabin of the vessel while Spock sat still on the bench— his only movement the thumbs of his clasped hands circling each other. 

“We can’t stay here,” Jim said. 

“I concur,” Spock said. 

“We need to go… somewhere. Not here,” Jim said, a worry at the edge of his mind. He could not help but feel there was somewhere he needed to be, but he could not think of where it was. 

“If we were to escape, I find myself troubled at the thought of letting this practice continue unchecked on this planet. This is a society that profits off and takes ownership of the passions, interests, and talents of its citizens. It is built on theft and oppression,” Spock said. His voice was dark and brittle and the clarity of his opinion made a wave of affection rise in Jim’s chest. 

He ceased his pacing and sat down on the bench next to Spock. He clasped him on the shoulder and smiled. “I agree. I think between the two of us we can figure something out.” Jim was about to let go of Spock’s shoulder, but Spock met his gaze and his eyes were so full of warmth and respect that Jim found it impossible to remove his hand. Instead he let it trail down Spock’s bare arm to his wrist. As their skin met there was a jolt between them. It faded, but Jim still felt a gentle warm tingling at the point of contact. He pressed his thumb against Spock’s wrist and felt his pulse beating strong and steady— pulse 242 something in the back of Jim’s mind supplied. 

“Spock,” he said softly, “When we touch—” he moved his hand so it was fully resting on Spock’s. The feeling intensified. Jim felt a whole different kind of adrenaline rush through his system.

Spock looked at him, concern in his eyes. “There is a sensation for you when we touch?”

“It’s okay. It’s not unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’d like— to do it more. If you are open to that.” 

Spock raised his eyebrows, a spark of amusement clear in his eyes. “I find— I would not be opposed to that.”

“Yeah?” Jim asked. He moved so he was kneeling in front of Spock. He placed his hands on his; his fingers traced the outline of Spock’s. Jim felt heat rush through his body at the way Spock shivered slightly under his touch. There was that beautiful green flush on Spock’s cheeks. He marveled at being able to look at Spock like this— close enough that he could fully appreciate the sharp angles of his cheek bones and the points of his ears. Jim clasped their hands together and intertwined their fingers.

Spock sighed loudly and reached down to pull Jim to him. It seemed effortless for him to tug him roughly into his lap so Jim was straddling his legs. Jim was momentarily distracted thinking about the amount of strength that would take— imagining other uses for that strength. Spock returned his hands to Jim’s and held them together between their bodies, his fingers leaving hot tracks against Jim’s own. There was something incredibly intimate about this moment. Jim would have been embarrassed by how turned on he was from such minimal contact if he was thinking clearly. 

“You should be aware,” Spock said. His voice was low and rough, “that Vulcans do not enter into intimate physical relationships casually.”

Jim almost moaned. “Trust me Spock, there is no way I could do anything casually with you.” He pressed their foreheads together. Spock looked up at him through half lidded eyes. Jim traced a finger along the side of his face, around the points of his ears. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Spock said a strong hand moving up Jim’s back pressing him closer and then moving up his neck into his hair and pulling him into a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments so greatly appreciated.


	11. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a brief scene at the start of this chapter that warrants the E rating. Skip down a bit to "Jim smiled at Spock who felt himself returning the expression." if that is not your cup of tea.

Spock’s hands burned with Jim’s touch— his body firm and solid on top of Spock’s lap— the heat of his groin pressed into his own. Their mouths connected and Spock was surprised by the intensity of the sensation. He wanted Jim— wanted him as close as he could be. The strength of the desire was overwhelming and Spock paused for a moment. Jim stared at him intently his golden eyes soft and smiling, all wet lips and heavy breaths. 

He ran a finger along the edge of Spock’s ear. “Is this alright?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Spock said and as he spoke a piece of him decided that it was okay to feel overwhelmed. His hands snaked up Jim’s bare back, relishing at the contact and the way Jim shivered under his touch. He tugged him closer. The feeling of Jim’s skin felt like the Vulcan sun, felt like starlight, and Spock chased it. Content to be in the moment with Jim’s mouth on his own, one of his strong hands at the base of his neck, fingers playing with his hair, the other against his back pressing Spock close to him. Spock allowed arousal to course hot through his body— noting the sheer amount of desire and want in his mind and body but instead focusing on each of Jim’s reactions to his touch and the way his own body responded.

He moved his mouth to Jim’s neck who let out a breath-filled moan. Spock was struck with a strong desire to discover everything that would make Jim make that noise again. His hands traced over Jim’s body— appreciating the strength of his shoulder and the soft rise of his stomach. Working on instinct, he moved attentions back to the place on Jim’s neck that had elicited the moan and sucked at the skin there. 

“Spock,” Jim sighed and his hips ground forward into Spock who felt the heat and firmness of Jim’s erection pressing against his own. Spock’s breath stuttered and he closed his eyes against the pleasure. Jim’s hands slid down Spock’s chest and toyed with the edge of his undergarment. Spock regarded Jim— his breathing was heavy and his lips kiss-swollen— his eyes mostly pupil surrounded by a ring of gold contained a question. “Spock,” Jim repeated, “I want to take our time. I want to know every inch of you and find out what drives you mad but at the moment—” He canted his hips towards Spock again to prove his point.

“I— concur, Jim. Speed and efficiency— ” he paused, distracted by Jim’s fingers deftly undoing the laces of his underwear—his fingers teasing against Spock’s cock. “Would be prudent.”

Jim chuckled. “I agree.” He tugged down his own underwear and took both of them in his hand. It was a beautiful sight. Jim on top of him, sweat shining on his chest, biting his lip in pleasure. Jim squeezed and Spock’s hips thrust into the touch. “This good?” Jim asked.

Spock shuddered in pleasure and nodded. It didn’t take them long to find a rhythm— their hips both moving into Jim’s touch. Spock gripped Jim’s thighs tightly. He could feel his arousal peaking. Jim was breathing fast and Spock felt the muscles of his thighs clench and tremble. “Jim,” he said softly. 

“I’m—” Jim began, but he came before he could finish the sentence and Spock quickly followed. Jim pressed his forehead against Spock’s and took a moment to control his breathing. He lightly trailed his hand up Spock’s arm. “That was incredible,” he said. He took cloth from beside them and gently wiped them both clean. 

Jim smiled at Spock who felt himself returning the expression. Jim looked relaxed for the first time since they discovered the suspicious activities on Terronda Prime. Spock allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sensation of Jim’s skin against his and the rush of chemicals his brain was releasing. He brushed Jim’s hair out of his eyes. 

“I believe I should meditate now,” Spock said.

“Oh?” Jim asked. Spock identified the disappointment in his voice. 

“I have a theory that I will be to locate the source of any telepathic interference in my own mind. It may help us to discover what caused some of the discrepancies in our memories,” Spock said. 

Jim shifted to sit beside Spock. The soft light in the cabin glinted through his long eyelashes and lit his warm eyes. It was an arresting sight and Spock noted a strong desire to return to Jim’s arms and sleep. 

“Do you need me to go? I could go above deck and—” 

“No Jim, you won’t be a hindrance to my meditation. Stay and sleep.” Spock rose and seated himself on the floor. Far enough away from Jim that he would not be tempted to return to him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After he reached the first level of his meditative state, he began to shift his focus towards his decision to come to Terronda Prime— this was a place where his own memories felt fractured and foreign. He deepened his trance and he easily found the threads of the memory. Usually when Spock accessed his memories they were all colored threads, delicately braided together and loosely intertwined. It was easy to follow one to the next, but here, the edges were sharp and jagged— the thread a harsh red that was unsettling in Spock’s mind. It was not connected to the surrounding memories, but instead was clumsily interserted, suspended independently of any other memories in the past or surrounding time. 

Spock paused to focus his breathing and thoughts, acknowledging and storing away the sensation of fear that crept around the edges of his mind. As he continued to shift through different threads of memories he noticed several broken and frayed ends. He moved towards one to examine it. He was on Vulcan, the intense afternoon sun cutting through the shades of his father’s office, creating stripes of light across Sarek’s stern face. Everything in the memory was clear, the smell of his father’s tea long-since gone cold untouched on his desk, the feel of Spock’s robe tight across his neck, the tension evident in his father’s neck. Everything clear except the words they were speaking. Instead of Sarek’s cool even tone there was a loud static sound that Spock could not filter out. 

He moved on. Some memories were like the one in his father’s office, clumsily changed to remove evidence of some aspect of Spock’s previous life. Deeper in his mind he found other memories that were removed all together. Tied in the same unsettling red thread, choked and bound in an attempt to restrict his own access to them. Spock took a moment to ensure his trance was strong and then slowly worked on untangling the foreign red threads. As he worked, slips of memories came back. He was on a star ship, walking into a lecture hall of Starfleet Academy, sitting at a negotiation table, walking in step behind Jim. Jim. In a gold uniform, shoulders squared, sitting in the command chair with natural authority and confidence. Jim. Smiling, his blazing smile, thrown over his shoulder, aimed at Spock. Spock tugged hard at the red binding, using all his mental strength, and it dissolved. 

He was hit with a flood of memories that almost overwhelmed him. Sharp pain radiated from his psi points, but he was able to control it. The threads reformed, healing and growing— reconnecting and blossoming throughout his mind. Spock took a moment to calm himself before coming back to his present surroundings. 

Jim was laying on his stomach facing Spock. There was concern evident in his gaze. 

* * *

Spock had come back from his meditation with tense shoulders and a determination that made Jim even more grateful that he was on his side. There was something in the way he was looking at Jim that was different— deeper and more intense. 

“Jim,” he said as he seated himself next to him. “I was correct. The government officials here have altered our memories and our consciousness. A violation I fully intend them to answer for. Their attempt was clumsy, inserting and repressing memories instead of replacing them. My own memories have been restored and I believe I am capable of helping you do the same,” Spock paused and looked carefully at Jim.

“Yes. Of course,” Jim said immediately. He sat up. There was a disgust and anger twisting its way through his body at the idea of someone, unbidden and unwelcome, messing with his mind, his thoughts, the things that were essential to his being. 

Spock’s steady gaze did not waver, but his brow furrowed. “Jim,” he said, “I would need to merge our minds in order to complete the process. I would only go deep enough to fix the damage to your memories, but I would still have access to your emotions and memories…”

“Spock,” Jim interrupted him, “It’s okay. I trust you,” he placed a hand on Spock’s arm and hoped that he was conveying the sincerity he felt. He did trust Spock. Completely. Despite the short amount of time they had known each other. This man who so easily stepped in to help Jim’s friend, who stared at the creature he had discovered, with Jim’s own awe and curiosity reflected in his eyes. Smart and intuitive and kind. How could Jim not trust him?

Spock nodded. He settled in front of Jim and reached his hand out towards Jim’s face. He paused before making contact. Jim could feel the heat of Spock’s hesitating fingers. Something inside of him was calling out for the touch. “Do it,” Jim said.

He felt Spock’s fingers connect with his face. 

“My thoughts to your thoughts,” Spock said. 

“My mind to your mind,” Spock’s voice sounded out loud, but was also coming from somewhere inside Jim’s head.

It felt odd at first— like cool water rushing through him, suspending and enveloping his thoughts and emotions— with Spock’s fingers on his face still pleasantly hot and humming against his skin. After a moment, Jim settled into the sensation— allowing Spock’s presence to surround him, because the feeling in his mind was definitely Spock. Ordered, yet dynamic. Curious and caring. Jim could feel the connection between them through his own lens and the Vulcan’s and it felt intimate and good. It felt like watching someone sleep on his chest in soft morning light. It felt like someone washing his hair in the sink when he was too sick to shower. It felt like cooking someone their favorite meal when he knew they had a bad day. The link between them was bright and shimmering in Jim’s mind— flickering gold and silver. He felt his own mind grasping at it— urging it deeper. 

“Jim, please, allow me to lead,” the tone of Spock’s voice was reprimanding, but here, connected with Spock, he could feel the warmth and affection Spock was feeling pulse through each word. Jim smiled and tried to obey. Spock’s focus was intent and controlled, while Jim could not control the euphoria that seemed to coat each of his thoughts and feelings with a golden sheen. 

Spock assisted him to access his memories. They lay out before them bright and tangled— thousands of yellow threads branching out and joining together. 

“Think about when you decided to come to Terronda Prime,” Spock’s voice— soft and measured in his mind.

Jim thought back. He was on a spaceship— no— he was in a house he was not sure he recognized. He was responding to a comm— but that didn’t make sense— he was— the memory suddenly evaporated and anxiety swelled in Jim’s chest.

“It was not your memory,” Spock reassured him. “I need a few more moments. The memories they tried to remove should begin coming back to you.”

Jim was standing on the bridge of a starship, fingers tracing over the command stripes on his uniformed wrist. Pride and joy and confidence building inside of him that overflowed into the grin he gave his science officer— Spock. 

Jim was sitting around a fire on an alien planet, engaged in a playful debate with his ship’s doctor— Bones— about if the plant the liquor was distilled from was more similar to Earth’s corn or rye. 

Jim was standing on the observation deck of the Enterprise, Spock close by his side. “The universe is so beautiful. I wanted to be a part of that— to be really in it. Celebrate its diversity and spread empathy and knowledge,” Jim was saying. Spock was looking at him with open admiration and understanding. 

At that Jim felt something inside his mind release and he was inundated with fragments of memories that flew into his consciousness too quickly for him to interpret or distinguish. Flashes of diplomatic meetings, blurs of alien species, and Spock— always Spock. 

Something sunk back into place within Jim and he was back— centered and whole. Spock broke the link between them and Jim felt a rush of disappointment. 

This was chased away quickly by anger and apprehension. 

“Spock,” he said urgently. “The ship, the crewmen who beamed down with us. We need to find them.” 

Spock smiled— relief evident in his eyes. “Indeed Captain. May I suggest we first look for a way to get in contact with the Enterprise. They should have returned from assisting with the establishment of the colony by now.”

“Alright, I’ll look through the equipment on here to see what you could repurpose. We may have to go back into the city to get some of the things we need,” Jim said and leapt to his feet. 

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “May I suggest that you put on some clothes first,” he looked away, “Captain.”

Jim laughed. “Brilliant suggestion as usual Mr. Spock,” he said. He wanted to pause and talk to Spock, make sure that they were still okay now that they both knew who they fully were. But he didn’t have time. The Enterprise could be in danger. His crewmen were his responsibility and who knew where they were or how their minds were altered. He was not avoiding the discussion, he reassured himself as he tugged on his pants back on, he just was good at recognizing what his priorities should be. He looked at Spock again as he jumped up the steps and smiled, hoping that Spock knew him well enough to recognize the affection there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing to read ❤


	12. Going Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update has taken so long, folks. Unexpected real life things limited my writing time. Next (and last!) chapter should arrive on schedule.

Jim had removed every device that seemed even remotely relevant from the boat’s control room. Spock was now sitting on the floor surrounded by wires and bits of metal. Jim couldn’t help but stop and smile despite the urgency in the pit of his stomach. It was a familiar site. Spock sitting amidst what, to an untrained eye, would look like chaos- his nimble fingers saving their hides putting together a solution out of nothing. And the pleasure of being able to recognize that this was a familiar site was striking. The gift of having Spock back in his memories and mind was extraordinary. He knelt besides Spock and picked up a loose knob and rolled it on his fingers. 

“What else do we need?” He asked.

Spock furrowed his brow. “If we could locate some kind of radio communication device that would make the process easier,” he said, “although it would be beneficial for you to get some rest, Captain,” he said with a sharp look at Jim. 

“I can rest after I get us home,” Jim said. He could feel exhaustion resting in his temples, but his anger and desperation overrode any chance of sleep. “It’s been a while since I practiced sleight of hand. Let’s hope I still have it in me.” 

Spock looked up at him. “If that fails, you have an extensive collection of other charms that are frequently quite effective.”

Jim pauses halfway through a laugh. It wasn’t an unusual comment for Spock. A compliment, wrapped in a joke, and then disguised as cluelessness. But in light of what happened between them- Jim wasn’t sure what it meant. It made him uncomfortable not being able to read every microexpression and turn of phrase that Spock made. Jim shook it off and slipped his thin grey shirt over his head. 

“I’ll be back. With a radio in tow.” He climbed back above deck and untied the small rowboat that was attached to the hull. The sun rising over the ocean was a site, but he didn’t have time to enjoy it. He had located several shops alongside the shore of where they had anchored. He hoped that one of them had what they needed. His arms were burning pleasantly by the time he reached the shore. 

He stowed the boat on the rocky coast some distance from the dock in case there was security and walked to a cluster of shops to the docks. He passed by a shop leaking the scent of baking bread, and his stomach growled, but he passed it by— it was unlikely to have the components he needed. He stopped in front of a store that had fishing and boat navigation gear in the window as well as a sign that advertised what his tablet translated to: “Emergency Navigation and Storm Update Services”. 

He ran a hand through his hair and walked into the shop. There was a Plahktoran woman standing behind a wooden counter. Her dark spines curled slightly and their ends were tipped with white. She looked up at Jim as he entered— her eyes flickering along his very human features. Jim relaxed his posture and smiled. He was hoping there had not been any kind of official announcement about Spock and his escape. He was betting on the fact that the higher ups would be nervous about any word of workers escaping the Compound getting back to their workers. 

“Good morning,” Jim said, broadening his smile, “I just got my first boat— surprising I know, but I grew up a long way from the ocean.”

“We have all your standard boating gear right over there,” she gestured towards the far corner of the shop and turned back to what she was reading on her tablet. Jim laughed and leaned against the counter.

“I’ve got all that. The shopkeeper must have seen me coming. Convinced me to buy every gadget and piece of equipment on his shelf,” Jim chuckled slightly and smiled when he saw the woman behind the counter smile slightly. Charming self-deprecation. Check. “I’m going out fishing for the first time. And I realized that I am going to be the most well equipped sailor ever to…. Get lost at sea,” he grinned and shook his head. “Think you can help me avoid comming my sister from the middle of the damn ocean to tell her she was right about me not being able to tell the front of a boat from the back.”

She laughed slightly in response. “I think I can help you out with that. We have three levels of warning and emergency services. I think you may be best off with the highest level,” she walked over to a display case and opened it with a swipe of her fingers. 

“I can’t argue with that,” Jim said and leaned closer as the woman explained the differences in the three levels of services. 

“Now, tell me how do these work?” Jim asked. He had an idea that being able to provide these services to their customers meant the shop had the kind of radio equipment they needed to build a communicator, but he wanted to be sure. He asked follow-up questions until the shopkeeper turned to him with an exasperated expression. “You know, you certainly ask a lot of questions for someone who can’t tell the front of the boat from the back,” she said. 

“Well, can’t blame me for wanting to know what’s going to be saving my ass,” he said with a sheepish grin, but took the hint. He needed to reason to get her out of the shop so he could discreetly pocket some of the equipment.

Eventually he convinced her to go into the stockroom to check if she had any additional lures after asking about every out stock piece of equipment he could see. The second she left, he quickly dove behind the counter and removed the appropriate radio equipment as efficiently as he could. He jogged out the door and shut it silently, feeling a twinge of guilt and promising himself he would compensate the shop owner as soon as he got back to the Enterprise. 

When Jim returned to the boat he found Spock, still seated on the floor surrounded by various bits of deconstructed equipment. His eyes lit as Jim walked down the steps with the radio equipment in his hands. He sat down next to Spock as he examined the pieces that Jim had brought him. 

“Tell me what needs to be done,” Jim said.

Spock tilted his head, “It is a straight-foward process now that we have these pieces. You should rest, Captain.”

Jim shook his head, “I’m not going to rest until I know our crewmen are safe. You can’t pretend you don’t know me well enough to know that now. I can finish this while you rest. We’ve both been awake the same number of hours.” 

He smiled fondly at Spock whose warm eyes met his as he replied, “You forget I have seen your memories return. I know there are thirty-seven instances where I have informed you about how Vulcans require less sleep than humans.”

“That many, huh?”

“Indeed,” Spock said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well then, Mr. Spock, seems like we’re both going to be working on this. Where do I start?”

They worked together in silence. Jim enjoyed having a task and the familiarity of sitting beside Spock working together to reach a common goal. Jim was carefully stripping the coating off of the radio wires, using a sharpened rock to remove most of it and then his fingers to smooth away the remaining bits, when he noticed Spock had stilled next to him. He looked up with a question in his eyes to see Spock staring at his hands. There was a faint green blush on his cheeks. Jim cleared his throat and looked away. Was Spock thinking of the last thing Jim had stroked with his hands? Was he disgusted by it? Excited by it? Jim took a breath and allowed himself ten seconds to think about Spock and what was going to happen between them now, before he returned his focus to the task at hand. 

“I believe we are ready, Captain,” Spock said and held out the makeshift device to Jim. 

Jim turned the knob, “This is Captain Kirk to the Enterprise. Enterprise do you read me?”

There was static in response. Jim looked at Spock who made a few adjustments and then nodded. 

“Repeat, Captain Kirk to Enterprise. Enterprise do you read me?”

There was some garbled noise this time before Uhurah’s voice came through, slightly broken by static, but still one of the most beautiful sounds Jim had ever heard, “Captain! Captain we read you. Are you alright?”

“Quite alright, Lieutenant. Just eager to get back to the ship. Spock is here with me. Can you get a lock on this signal?” 

There was a pause then Scotty’s voice came through, “We’ve got a lock, Sir. Ready to beam up?”

Jim grinned. “What do you say, Spock? Ready to go home?”

Spock’s eyes lit in a smile. “Yes.”

Jim punched in the coordinates they had taken the boat from and hoped that the ship would be able to get back to its owners. “Ready, Scotty.”

He returned to stand next to Spock and let his fingers brush against the Vulcan’s before he felt the transporter beam take hold. 

* * *

Spock felt Jim’s fingers brush against his own right before they were beamed aboard the ship, but he did not have enough data to ascertain what Jim meant to communicate by it. A frustrating experience, he acknowledged. He knew there was no point in trying to deduce what would happen to his relationship with his captain now. His thoughts had not cooperated over the course of the day. Finding himself unusually distracted by Jim’s presence. However, as soon as they were back on the Enterprise, he moved the thoughts forcefully aside so he could focus on figuring out their next steps regarding Terronda Prime. 

Jim practically ran to the turbolift, Spock and Scotty trailing behind him. 

“Our mission took longer than we were expecting, we thought it was strange we hadn’t heard from you, but we only managed to get back yesterday. What happened down there?” Scotty asked, but he kept talking before they could reply, “They told us you insisted on going off on some mining expedition and the boat was lost. We contacted Starfleet, but hadn’t heard back. Where are the rest of the crew?”

Jim’s postured tightened. “That’s what we have to figure out. Were you able to scan the planet for human life signs?” 

“No, sir. The Plahktorian government said that there were storms preventing our scanners from functioning, but I think there was something a wee bit more sinister going on.”

“You’re correct about that,” Jim said and met Spock’s eyes for a moment. They were on the bridge now and Spock noticed the relief he felt at being back. He went to his station and attempted to locate the source of the scanner-block while Jim quickly explained what had happened on the planet to the rest of the crew. The block was rudimentary and Spock was confident he would be able to find a way around it. By the time Jim finished fielding questions and came to his station he had already located four human life signs— all in the Compound.

“Is there any way in telling which ones are our crew?” Jim asked

“Negative, Captain. I suggest we beam them all aboard. It would be the fastest way to get our crewmembers back on board and also ensure that the others are there of their own free will.”

“Very well,” Jim said, “Kirk to transporter room. Lock on to all human life signs on the planet and beam them aboard on my signal.” He turned back toward Spock, “Mr. Spock, with me.” Spock followed behind him back towards the lift. 

Doctor McCoy came running out of the lift as they neared it. 

“Not now Bones, we’ll come in for full physicals after, but we have to take care of this,” Jim said and clapped the doctor on his back. “Lieutenant Uhura, open up a channel to the Plahktoran exoplanetary commmision, but do not hail them until everyone is safely on board. It’s time to renegotiate the terms of their Federation membership.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing to read. I appreciate all your comments, kudos, etc. This chapter was kind of quick and not relationship focused, but rest assured we are going to spend time getting into all that in the next one. <3


	13. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Walks in two months late with iced coffee and a stack of grad school applications*
> 
> Sorry for the delay y'all. Thanks to everyone who stuck with this. <3 you all. 
> 
> Heed the E warning at the end of this chapter folks. 
> 
> See endnotes for Vulcan translations

It had been 2.6 Earth-hours since Jim and Spock had made it back to the Enterprise. In that time, Spock had met with the crewmembers and humans they had beamed aboard from the planet, assisted Jim to brief the bridge-crew about what had happened, and worked with Dr. McCoy in order to find a way to restore the memories and skills the humans had lost that did not involve him melding with each of them. Currently, he was sitting at his station on the bridge, while reviewing the progress his science team had made while he had been on the surface. The Captain was reviewing Lieutenant Commander Scott’s reports and awaiting a return hail from the exoplanetary commission. Spock acknowledged the sense of comfort he felt observing the Captain back in his chair. His eyes and jaw were determined and there was a relaxed ease in his posture that hadn’t been present on the planet. He held a padd in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Spock was momentarily distracted by his fingers curled around the cup. He blinked and drew his attention back to the work in front of him. His lack of meditation or rest must be having more of an impact than he thought. 

“I have the exoplanetary commission here, Captain,” Lieutenant Uhura said.

Jim handed the padd to the yeoman who appeared at his side, and then, with a slight reluctance, gave him his cup of coffee as well. 

“Ah, excellent. Put them through on visual, Lieutenant,” he said with a smile. 

A trio of Plahktorans emerged on the viewscreen with Tolden Klav at the front, his expression much more grim than the last time he had appeared on the screen. 

Jim crossed his legs and made the Plahktoran gesture of greeting. “Well gentlemen, thank you for getting in touch. It appears you were not totally forthright about what you wanted from the federation.”

Tolden Klav’s spines went rigid and then relaxed. “We informed you that we wanted your labor and your skills and you agreed freely to give them to us.”

Jim chuckled, but it was cold and unamused. “Don’t insult us by expecting us to believe this was merely a translator error.” Jim said in a clipped voice. 

Tolden’s mouth twitched and his fingers tapped against his thigh. “You consented, Captain. We have it recorded in our reports about the negotiations.”

“Even so, we consented without understanding. How about all the other workers on the compound. What do they know about what happens in that auction house of yours? Uninformed consent is not legitimate.”

“Our workers come to us of their own free will, Captain.”

“And what of me and my first officer? You kidnapped us from our rooms,” Jim said, his voice increasing slightly in volume.

“Kidnapped is a harsh and uncouth word, Captain,” Tolden said, his voice was tight and controlled, but Spock recognized the unease in the way his spines were drawn back and his continuous tapping on the back of his legs. 

“It is. But unfortunately, in this situation, accurate. Now, not only did you attack and detain Federation officers, you misled us during negotiations, and misrepresented the way your civilization functions. Now, I recognize that there are good and decent folks outside of the leadership on Terronda Prime. However, while you are still in charge, we cannot endorse these actions. There is more than enough cause for the Federation to revoke any terms that were previously agreed to. That will be my recommendation unless you are willing to make some serious changes in the way things operate on Terronda Prime.”

Tolden laughed and turned to the other Plahktorans. “We need nothing from your Federation. You have seen the strength and the wealth of our cities. There will always be others who are interested in High-density Psimite. You have nothing to offer us.”

“Very well,” Jim said and signaled Lieutenant Uhura to end the transmission. Spock admired the ease and the authority with which Jim had handled the situation, although he acknowledged he felt uneasy at the thought of leaving behind an exploited and abused workforce. 

“Lieutenant Uhura, release a warning memo to all members of the Federation about what happens to people who work on the Compound here,” Jim said and then turned his chair, “Mr. Spock, a quick word before we depart.” 

Spock approached the Captain’s chair and stood to his right. “Yes, Captain?”

“I know the Prime Directive states that our work should be done here,” he gave Spock a pointed look before continuing, “and our work _is_ done here. However—” He cleared his throat. “I wonder what would happen if the morning broadcast tomorrow in the Compound was somehow replaced by footage of a certain auction scheduled to happen tonight…”

“Indeed, Captain,” Spock replied, his mind was already computing how to bring the idea to life and he could not control the surge or warmth and affection he felt towards Jim. 

Jim leaned forward and pressed a small chip into Spock’s hand. Heat and desire spiked inside Spock as their hands met— Jim’s fingers lingered pressed into his own. But Spock swallowed it down and reminded himself that they did not have time for this right now. 

“I also wonder what would happen if this made it back into the hands of a certain Plahktoran who escaped to find his brother,” he said in a low voice. 

Spock raised his eyebrows, “Indeed, Captain.”

“Well Mr. Spock,” he continued in a voice loud enough for the entire bridge to hear, “Are we ready to leave orbit?”

“There are a few things the science team needs to finish up before we are ready, sir,” Spock said. 

Jim beamed at him in reply. “Very well. Keep me informed of your progress.”

Spock nodded and turned towards the turbolift as Jim places a hand on his forearm. Spock noted the intense reaction his body had to Jim’s touch, even with cloth between their skin. He would need to find a way to prevent that going forward. 

“I’m grateful we found each other down there,” Jim said. The whisper in his voice and the warmth in his eyes made blood move towards Spock’s cheeks. 

“As am I, Jim,” Spock held Jim’s gaze for long enough for Jim to see his sincerity before he turned back towards the lift. He had work to do and lingering over emotional exchanges was not efficient. He should be able to set the Captain’s plan into motion without beaming back down to the planet. All he needed was a bit more time. 

* * *

Spock was worked quickly. His body felt weakened by fatigue, but he pushed forward. It took a bit of creative work with the Enterprise computer and the compound tablet, but he was almost done when his screen lit up with the Captain’s smiling face. He was smiling although Spock could see they tension in his posture. 

“Mr. Spock, how long until you are ready to leave orbit? Our hosts are a bit impatient for us to get on our way after our last conversation.” 

Spock looked back down other screen on his work table. “I assume you are employing understatement, Captain, and there is an imminent threat of violence if we don’t depart soon?”

Jim chuckled. “Correct as usual, Mr Spock. What’s your ETA?”

Spock checked the status bar. “Approximately 3.57 minutes.” 

“I think I can buy you approximately that,” Jim said and winked. 

He hesitated for a moment with his hand reached out towards the controls and his eyes fixed on Spock. He shook his head slightly and then smiled. “The second you’re done, Spock. Kirk out.

* * *

Between reports and running through the crew’s progress. Jim didn’t make it to his mandatory post mission physical until the end of his shift. Bones had waited for him in the turbolift and escorted him to sick bay with pointed looks. Jim shifted uncomfortably as Bones adjusted the scanner again and the slight buzzing in his head increased. There had been enough things messing with his mind recently. He didn’t want Bones’ scanner joining the party. 

“I told you; I’m fine. Spock fixed everything.”

“Well I’m sorry if I have trouble trusting Vulcan mind magic. I still can’t believe you let him mess with your head when you didn’t even know who he was,” Bones said with a frown that told Jim he was seriously concerned about Jim’s judgement and decision making. 

Jim adjusted his sleeves. “He wasn’t a stranger. Not really.” He wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling he got when he saw Spock— even with no memories of their time together—it was like his mind, his body, hell, maybe even his soul was always reaching out for Spock. Not that he could say that to Bones. Not when he was still so unsure of where things with Spock stood now. Not when Bones would surely tell him he needed a more thorough psychiatric evaluation if he started waxing on like some ancient romantic about a damn Vulcan. 

“Are we almost done here?” He said. He felt restless. He wanted to be back on the bridge and see the open expanse of space before them. Wanted to feel the possibilities of the unknown and look over to see Spock with the same excited glint in his eyes. He wanted to have Spock come to his quarters after alpha shift and play chess— wanted to be sure that everything was okay between the two of them.

“Just the standard questions left,” Bones said. He put down his scanner with one last skeptical glance at it and grabbed his padd and sat down next to Jim. 

Jim answered the standard questions quickly: yes, he had eaten native plants and animals. No, he had not had any usual reactions. No, there were no major universal translator malfunctions. Yes, he had decontaminated the belongings he brought back with him. No, he had not taken any soil, plantlife, or animals back with him. 

“Did you have sexual contact with any alien species?” Bones asked. He looked up at Jim with a teasing smile. “You left the heavy crown of command behind— did you let yourself have any fun?”

Jim faltered. He didn’t lie to Bones. Avoided the question sometimes, sure. Avoided him, yes. But never a direct lie. 

Bones laughed. “That’s a yes then. Which—” 

“It’s a species that ‘Fleet medical has already cleared for intimate relations. No need for follow up questions.” He said quickly, edging his voice with command and hoped it was enough for Bones to drop it. He briefly wondered how Spock was going to answer that question. Maybe Bones wouldn’t even bother to ask him. 

“Now, if that’s all, I need to get back to the bridge,” Jim said and sat up. 

Bones rolled his eyes. “Alright, but I expect you to come back for follow up scans once a week for a while. I still feel uneasy about all the meddling that went on in your head.”

Jim nodded absently and walked out— unsure of where exactly he was going. The conversation with Bones was a reminder of how far things had gone between him and Spock on Terronda Prime. Not that it hadn’t already been on his mind constantly. He wanted to go to Spock’s quarters. He wanted to look him in the eyes make sure he was okay with what had happened. Wanted to hold him and make sure he was more than okay with what happened. 

Jim ended up returning to his quarters and collapsing on his bed for four hours before he woke up and spent a few hours combing over the department heads’ reports from when he had been on Terronda Prime. It wasn’t until he started to work on his report about the incident for Starfleet Command before his thoughts became too overwhelming for him to distract himself. His ship was safe. His crew was safe. Things on the planet were hopefully changing for the better. They were back on course and things were back to normal. Except he had slept with Spock. Not in a dream or weakened moments of fantasy that were chased by guilt. Actually slept with Spock. They needed to talk about that. Jim ran his hand through his hair and took a moment to consider the possible outcomes. If he was going to get his heart broken there was no use in drawing it out. If Spock wanted to ignore what had happened and continue a friendship— he would make that work. It had to. If Spock was disgusted and no longer wanted to be his friend or first officer— Jim shook his head. He and Spock hadn’t spoken about it, but that didn’t seem like something Spock would do.

Jim considered himself a brave man, sometimes to the point that others called it recklessness, still, it took him an additional hour before he was standing in front of Spock’s door, preparing himself for the conversation that would follow. Sometimes in the past they would access each other’s rooms through the shared bathroom, but that felt too intimate for the conversation he was about to initiate. 

He signaled at Spock’s door and Spock opened it quickly as if he had been expecting him. He was no longer in uniform, instead he wore a dark black robe with Vulcan script embroidered in silver thread up the sleeves. The darkness of the robe offset his skin and made his eyes seem even deeper. Jim swallowed. This would be easier if he didn’t look so damn enticing.

“Am I interrupting, Spock?” He said and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

“No Jim,” he responded, his gaze steady on Jim’s eyes. “Come in.”

Jim entered his quarters and paced along the border of the room, pretending to look at the Vulcan artifacts Spock had on display, even though he had been here many times before and could probably draw each piece of the room with his eyes closed. He could feel Spock’s eyes following him, but was unsure how to start this conversation. The last time he had felt unsure while talking to Spock was when Spock had asked him about Kodos. He remembered the relief and care he felt after finally telling Spock what was going on. Maybe this would be the same. 

“Spock,” he said softly and turned towards his friend. “It occurs to me, we have not yet discussed what happened on the planet’s surface. Between you and I. Before our memories returned.”

Spock stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back, his face stone. Jim searched his eyes for a hint of his thoughts and was disappointed that he could not read them. He was clearly waiting for Jim to continue speaking.

Jim smiled tightly and charged forward. “My friendship with you is precious to me and I am concerned—” Jim stopped and clasped his hands together. What was he concerned with really? That he would lose Spock? That he would not be able to go back to the way things were now that he knew what they could be like? 

Mercifully, Spock stepped in. “I also value your friendship. I don’t wish for any rash actions on my part to damage the strength of our relationship.”

“Okay, right. Good.” Jim rubbed his hands together. Was this it? He supposed it was the best that he could have hoped for. One awkward conversation and nothing was irrevocably changed. He would just have to work on not remembering kissing Spock every time he spoke. Not remember the strength of his hands gripping his bare thighs. Not remember the look on his face when he— Jim cleared his throat and turned away before Spock could see the blush rising on his cheeks. 

He swallowed the hope he hadn’t realized he had brought with him into the room. “Well, I’m glad we got that sorted. I should— go back to writing reports.” Jim’s smile was tight, but it was the best he could do given the circumstances.

Spock stepped towards him. “Jim,” his voice was low and soft and made Jim hesitate, half-turned on the balls of his feet. 

Jim looked expectantly at Spock, but the Vulcan just looked at him mouth still open. It was the first time Jim could recall him being at a loss for words. Hope crept back up his chest. 

He moved forward slowly, like he was afraid Spock would spook and run away. “Spock, understand I would never want for you to feel any pressure of any kind from me… and I am being incredibly selfish here but…” he paused again. Very aware there was no turning back if he finished this sentence. 

“I have never known you to be selfish,” Spock said simply. 

“Well, here goes,” Jim said, “Is there any possibility that you would be open to… “ he trailed off and took a step towards Spock. His eyes scanned Spock. He was observing him closely. His head tilted thoughtfully. Jim fought the urge to reach and touch Spock. He needed to do this the right way. “Expanding the definition of our friendship. Our relationship.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow in question. 

“I care about you, Spock. I have never made a secret of that. But after what happened on Terronda Prime… I think the cat might be out of the bag,”Jim said with a grin and a pleading look at Spock to say _something_.

“To which feline are you referring?” Spock asked in an even tone.

Jim let out a burst of laughter that was half amusement and half nervous energy. 

Spock’s eyes warmed. “We are both men of science,” he declared, “We both appreciate the value of exploring all possibilities with an open and analytical mind.”

Jim nodded.

“I hypothesize that there would be strong benefits that come with our pursuing a more intimate form of relationship,” Spock said. His face had not changed; his hands were still clasped firmly behind his back. 

He took a step towards him. Hope and delight now freely making their way into his eyes and smile.

“Well, that sounds quite logical.”

Spock’s mouth twitched. “I believe I’m correct in my assessment that both of us have enjoyed many benefits of a mutual friendship. Our friendship has made me a better officer and a better man. That’s an inexact declaration, but one I can easily support with evidence,” Spock was still standing straight, but there was a tension in his stance gave away his unease with his own words.

Jim could feel warmth blossoming from within him, like he always did when Spock complimented him in his matter-of-fact way, but now it felt so encompassing that he was surprised that his whole body wasn’t vibrating from it. 

“I agree,” Jim reached out and placed a hand on Spock’s arm. His hand trailed down the fabric of his robe before reaching his hand. Spock inhaled as his fingers wrapped around Jim’s and Jim felt a jolt run through his whole body, originating from the point of contact. Spock’s eyes were wide and dark and Jim couldn’t look away. 

“And are there reasons beyond logic that you want this?” Jim asked; his voice half a whisper. He stepped closer to Spock.

“That is a difficult question to answer,” Spock said. 

“Oh?” Jim asked. He trailed his fingers over Spock’s remembering the way it had made him shiver. He was not disappointed this time. Spock’s eyes fluttered shut and he took a deep breath.

“My attraction to you is logical. My love for you is logical. I have spent many hours meditating on both facts,” he said. He was leaning in towards Jim now so his voice sent a breeze against Jim’s ear.

“You’ve spent time meditating about me, eh?” Jim said, his grin felt like it was never going to leave his face.

“Indeed,” Spock said, “Your presence proved to be quite disruptive at first.”

“And now?” Jim leaned in, his eyes on Spock’s lips, reveling in the feel of the Vulcan pressed against him, to be able to look and love so openly. 

“I believe you can feel the ways in which you are disrupting me now,” Spock said and roughly closed the remaining inches between them.

Jim held Spock’s biceps and kissed him deeply. It was overwhelming. The sensation of Spock’s mouth hot on his own. The smell of him filling his nose. The strength of his fingers gripping his arms. The electric buzz of Spock’s bare skin against his own. 

Spock walked them towards his bed. His lips not leaving Jim’s— his hands teasing at the hem of Jim’s uniform. Jim stumbled as he legs met the bed frame, tugging Spock down with him so Jim was propped against the headboard with Spock heavy and hot on top of him. He broke the kiss to let out a breathless laugh.

“Kissing you is incredible. I can’t believe how good this feels,” he said.

Spock kissed down Jim’s neck and shifted so he was straddling him. “You’ve kissed me before,” he said against his skin.

“Yes,” Jim said and then whimpered as Spock sucked on his neck. “But I didn’t know enough to fully appreciate that I was kissing _you_ at the time.”

“I believe I understand,” Spock said and lifted Jim’s uniform and undershirt over his head. 

Jim tugged at the opening of Spock’s robe. “Get rid of this.”

“As you wish.” Spock removed his robe to reveal himself.

Jim sat so he could run his hands over Spock’s chest. “You’re gorgeous,” he followed the trail of hair down Spock’s abdomen and let his thumb brush against Spock’s growing arousal. Spock shifted and thrust against him. “Let me take care of you,” Jim said softly. Spock moved so he was laying next to Jim, who removed his pants and sat between Spock’s long legs. He kissed his thigh as his fingers moved up the inside of Spock’s other leg— just barely brushing along Spock’s balls and cock. Spock trembled slightly at the touch and arched his back.

“I am going to enjoy finding every single thing that drives you mad,” Jim said— leaning towards Spock’s growing erection so his words blew breath across it right as he cupped two fingers under his balls. 

He was rewarded with a groan from Spock. Jim wrapped his fingers around his cock and kissed his hip bones before taking him into his mouth. God, the noise he made— the taste of him. Jim felt lightheaded with pleasure. Spock ran his fingers into Jim’s hair, twisted it between his fingers. Jim relaxed his throat and took him deeper and Spock tugged on his hair in surprise. 

“Jim,” Spock’s voice was ragged, “If you continue to do this—” He trailed off into a soft growl, but Jim understood. The muscles in Spock’s abdomen were flexed and he was breathing rapidly. Jim wanted to tease Spock, but his own arousal was mounting and he wasn’t feeling patient. He increased the speed and pressure until Spock came into his mouth.He swallowed and returned so he was laying next to Spock. Who was breathing heavy, his eyes half closed. “Jim,” he repeated.

Jim smiled and kissed him softly and tried to shift his position so his erection wasn’t pressing into Spock’s leg. He wanted to allow him time to recover. Spock it seemed had other ideas. He deepened the kiss— his tongue slipping into Jim’s mouth and his long fingers circling towards his cock. He gripped him and Jim moaned into his mouth at the contact. 

Spock tried to move, but Jim stopped him. “Wait, Spock, I don’t want to stop kissing you,” Jim said.

Jim could feel his orgasm growing. He could have come just from going down on Spock and rutting against the blanket. But God, Spock’s nimble fingers, the feeling of so much of his bare skin against his, the fact that he could already feel Spock’s erection hardening against his leg. Still there was something inside of him that just wanted _more_. Spock raised his other hand to brush aside a strand of Jim’s hair that had fallen into his face and when his fingertips grazed along his temple a yearning inside of Jim that he had not even noticed before swelled. He knew from that brief touch— fingers along, hot and electric, that he had been longing for this since the meld on Terronda Prime. Longing to not only be connected to Spock physically again, but for their minds to join again. 

Jim shifted Spock’s hand so his fingers were at the meld points. “Spock, please,” he said and Spock joined them. 

He could feel his consciousness leap across the meld to Spock’s; he could not control it intertwining itself in Spock’s presence, cool and organized. He could feel his own desire and Spock both hot and burning. The enormity of the love and the want was bright and swirled into every part of Jim’s being. It only took a moment before they both came in Spock’s hand. Jim collapsed against Spock’s chest— spent — each of his nerves still burning. 

Spock stroked his head and after a few moments spoke, “If I had not spoken earlier, did you plan to leave here agreeing to cultivate our friendship and nothing more?” 

Jim shrugged and didn’t bother trying to reign in the sincerity in his voice, “If friendship is all you could offer me, I would have still been the luckiest man this side of the Andromeda.”

“I’ve never known you to not ardently and resolutely pursue the things you desire, Captain.”

Jim chuckled and ran his hand down Spock’s bare arm, delighted that he was able to touch him so freely. “Well then, you have not been paying attention for the last three years, Mr. Spock. I would say I’ve shown remarkable self-restraint,” Jim said with a grin,

“If the past three years have been you showing self-restraint, I fear what is coming next.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to show you,” Jim said and winked. 

“Veh t' wehk sanosh tor sarlah,” Spock responded. He traced a finger along Jim’s jaw. 

“It is so sexy when you speak Vulcan,” Jim said and ran his fingers down Spock’s throat who shivered in response.

“Nash-veh dungi tan-tor du fan-vel du aitlun, t'hy'la,” he said,

The last word awoken something in Jim’s chest. “What does that mean? _T'hy'la_?” Jim said.

Spock pursed his lips and regarded Jim carefully. 

“It is this,” Spock said pulling Jim easily against his chest. “Us together. A bond formed on the bridge and battle field. Across the chess board and in moments of deep wisdom and empathy.It is that and more. It is both of us coming home.”

Jim leaned forward so he could clean them both. His body and mind were still relaxed and thrumming with pleasure. Spock grumbled. His eyes were fluttering shut— his lean naked form stretched on against his red sheets was the most beautiful thing Jim had seen. He reached towards Jim and easily pulled him back down. Jim smiled and relaxed into his arms. He pressed a hand against the wall enjoying the thrum of the engines against his hand, the smell of Spock surrounding him, his presence still echoing in his mind. Sleep crawled towards the edges of his consciousness and he smiled and let it. Every piece of his mind and soul echoing with one word: _home_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan translations:  
> Veh t' wehk sanosh tor sarlah - one of many pleasures to come  
> Nash-veh dungi tan-tor du fan-vel du aitlun - I will give you anything you desire
> 
> Woof okay this has been a journey. Thank you so much to everyone who has read this. You all mean a lot. I am on tumblr [here](https://m-b-w.tumblr.com/). It's not all Star Trek, but there is a decent amount of course. As always kudos and comments are wonderful. Thank you all for the support.


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